Cain & Abel: The Hounds of Erebus
by Mike Stormm
Summary: Commissars Cain and Abel and the rest of the Valhallan 597th venture to the Forge World of Erebus to aid the Adeptus Mechanicus. But nothing is quite what it seems and Erebus turns out to be a world full of secrets and danger...
1. ONE

**The Hounds of Erebus**

**-Ariel Abel**

_"I have seen the fearsome powers of the Warp tear the heavens asunder; I have seen xeno weaponry wreath worlds in flame; and I have seen the endless hordes of terror and chaos incarnate. But through it all my faith has never faltered for I walk in the Emperor's light and no darkness shall ever touch me."_

_-Abd-al-Aziz Hakim; 'The Fortitude of Faith'_

**ONE**

A common adage amongst the officers and commissars of the Imperial Guard is 'pray for the best, prepare for the worst.' It was one of the many messages the heavy-handed hammer of the Schola Progenum pounded into my brain during my years as a cadet along with 'the Emperor protects the faithful.' Personally, I have always found body armour, refractor shields, and psychic wards to be a far more reliable means of protection than relying on divine intervention. The Emperor was occupied with far more pressing matters than keeping a xeno or heretic from liberating my soul from its earthly bonds. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how one looks at it, during my long career serving the Emperor, being prepared for the worse saved my life on countless occasions. Far more often than I care to count. Preparation served me well during my years on Armageddon, kept me alive during the 13th Black Crusade, and delivered me a resounding victory on the tomb world of Tiras Secundis (the details of which I intend to take to my grave rather than recount. Just mentioning it here will likely give me nightmares).

No man taught me more the true value of being prepared better than Commissar Ciaphas Cain when I served alongside him during my relatively brief stint with the Valhallan 597th Ice Warriors. Cain seemed to have an innate ability to cause any situation he is in to escalate from near-disaster to all-out catastrophe. Fortunately for those around him (namely me), he had an equally innate ability to pull victory from the most dire of situations. It is, perhaps, the only reason I had managed to survive my years spent serving with him. That is until I mastered my own knack for laughing in the proverbial face of Chaos.

When I was deployed to the planet Erebus, I was still very much a young, inexperienced commissar. Though I had somehow managed to make it through my first few campaigns relatively intact, there was still a great deal of undesirable ugliness in the galaxy and I had yet to become familiar with it (a situation I would unfortunately rectify as the decades passed by). Erebus introduced me to a whole level of danger that I had never before heard of or encountered. Not to mention a level of pain I would thankfully never come across again. Before Erebus, I had been threatened with the prospect of being vaporized, incinerated, shot, diced, devoured, emulsified, exploded, and even ritually sacrificed. However, I had yet to be fully introduced to the wondrous world of spiritual deaths. The death of the flesh was one thing, albeit a very big thing, but the death of the soul was a whole new level of terror. An experience that one rarely gets the opportunity to truly savour, more than once. But, you say, what about your encounter with the daemon on the Blessed Bounty? While that victory allowed me be catapulted to heroine-in-the-making status it doesn't count as a perfect bulls-eye as it only nearly caused my soul to be dragged into the warp. And because it didn't score a perfect 10 out of 10 on the Truly Terrifying, Near-Death Experience scale the galaxy decided that I needed a refresher course. Granted, death still had me on speed-dial during my ordeal on Erebus but for a brief moment I found myself teetering on the edge of damnation…contemplating an unthinkable act and actually believing it was a good idea. Such a moment, in reflection, is a very sobering experience and it is one that I still look back on with a heavy heart and a heavier drink.

The planet of Erebus was a stark contrast to any of the previous worlds I had been deployed on. Magnus Viridis was a paradise world both in the literal and figurative sense, and Acitcratna, while at times cold enough to freeze your spit before it hit the ground, was a quaint, tranquil little planet in its own right…at least when we weren't getting shot at by heretics. Both were noted for vibrant ecosystems that had been left relatively untouched by the Imperium. Erebus, on the other hand, was a small forge world whose ecosystem had been torn up to make room for more smelters, foundries and factories. The only living things on the planet were the people and even then most of the people were either servitors or tech-priests, making the 'human' population mostly mechanical. Now I have nothing against the Adeptus Mechanicus or its people – one of my oldest friends is a tech-priest after all – but they're horrible conversationalists. It makes it difficult to pass the time when you're stuck loitering around scores of them for days on end.

But that was the prospect I and the rest of the Valhallan 597th were looking at when we were redirected to Erebus. Our regiment had originally been slated to return to a staging station in order to recoup our losses from the previous campaigns and prepare for the next hellhole that needed its compliment of the Emperor's wrath. But the infinite wisdom of the Munitorium (and some idiot who probably had no idea what a Valhallan was) decided that our regiment would be put to better use watching over some Mechanicus project. Forge worlds were, generally speaking, are stinking hot. Desert planets, while hot, at least offer the amusement created when some noobie is caught cracking a 'but it's a dry heat' joke where upon they are immediately crash-tackled by the six nearest soldiers and buried up to their neck in the sand. Forge worlds offered no such comic relief. The hot, humid atmosphere was guaranteed to bake the Valhallans and the chemical-laced atmosphere meant breathing through a gas mask whenever you were outdoors. As a Kriegan, a forge world was little more than home on a hot summer's day so I was one of the few people on the shuttle ride to the planet's surface that wasn't thinking about firebombing the Munitorium's headquarters. My two aides and fellow Kriegans, Corporal Fredriks Watz and Trooper Yarit 'Spike' Heilmit, were in equally good spirits but for most soldiers of the Death Korps of Krieg, few things ever sullied their mood other than heresy or somebody dumping smelling salts into their gas masks. Despite the fact that their transfer to the Valhallan 597th should have technically only been a temporary affair, the chaotic nature of the campaign and Magnus Viridis, not to mention the death of the Kriegan command structure, ensured that no one ever bothered asking for them back. Neither of my aides were very interested in heading back to the Death Korp either – likely something to do with how the women they were now serving alongside viewed them as a sort of exotic addition to their ranks.

On the shuttle ride down to the planet, I had the fortune to be able to grab the seat next to the Valhallan's executive officer, Major Broklaw. Our relationship was…complicated to put it mildly but we knew the boundaries and we were doing a good job of keeping on our respective sides of that line. I imagine it was as tough on him as it was on me but our unwavering commitment to our duties made it easier to keep things on a friendly-but-still-professional level…most of the time at least. Some circumstances made it harder than others to keep our sentiments from showing. However, I was informed afterward that we did a far worse job hiding our feelings from the rest of the regiment than we thought. Truth be told, we didn't fool anybody except for maybe Jurgen. Still, even focused on our duties, his company made the shuttle ride the most pleasant part of our deployment to Erebus. Unfortunately, at the time I had no idea it would be a perpetual downhill slide from then onwards. Had I known, I would have done something more enjoyable than reading over a briefing slate with the XO.

Like any dutiful XO, Broklaw was perusing the briefing slate so that Colonel Kasteen wouldn't need to be bored with all the mundane details of the planet and its landscape (both geographical and political). His light grey eyes remained transfixed on the dataslate in his hand while mine had a tendency to drift over to the man whose shoulder I was leaning over to read said dataslate. Again, some moments were harder to maintain total discipline. That was especially true for me during the earlier years of our relationship when I was still very young and occasionally at the mercy of my hormones.

"This Erebus sounds likes a wonderfully cheerful place," I commented after reading a few paragraphs in which the words 'civil war' popped up several times. "Strange that, for a change, we're being sent in after the war is over rather than just before it begins."

"I'm not complaining," Broklaw replied. "This is definitely not the kind of planet I would have wanted to be stuck fighting a prolonged campaign on." According to the dataslate, Erebus was as typical as forge worlds go – every last square foot of land was a building or roadway of some sort; manufacturing facilities stretched far and wide; and there was more technology crammed into a street corner than most planets had on whole continents. The streets were so narrow and packed there would have been no room to navigate heavy armour, which meant the civil war had been a long, bloody affair involving building-by-building fighting. It took almost a decade to clear out the rebels and most of that was a war of attrition until the Imperium managed to get heavy bombers to the planet. Once the bombers were planet-side, the Imperial Navy hit them like the Emperor's mailed fist. The Tech-priests weren't happy about the end result but reclaiming half of a forge world was better than losing it all.

"Anything about what they rebelled over?" I asked since I was not able to read as fast as Broklaw.

"Some sort of schism in the ruling Tech-priests," he answered with a hint of indifference. Why people rebelled was hardly his concern. The only thing that ever mattered to him was how he was going to put an end to it. "But you know how those guys can be – they get into arguments over numbers. I saw some get into a brawl when somebody said the answer wasn't forty-two."

Tech-priests were a bizarre but unfortunately necessary part of the Imperium. Talking to one was often as productive as talking to a food dispenser but they held the secrets of all the technology that the Imperium needed to function. Keeping the Adeptus Mechanicus happy was as vital as the air we breath, which wouldn't be so bad if they had similar needs as the rest of the galaxy. But while normal men would usually be content with wealth, women, power, or pieces of art, the tech-priests only craved knowledge and technology. If I ever caught a tech-priest gawking at me, it was because he was literally checking out my guns. And when the Adeptus Mechanicus wants something, they usually do not care who they have to knock aside in order to get. As Cain once mentioned to me, despite all their genius, they often lack even a rudimentary degree of common sense.

Now whatever caused Erebus to be torn asunder was a mystery to us at the time and we didn't give it much thought since the civil war was over. Unfortunately, although the fighting had stopped that didn't necessary mean the problems were solved. The Valhallan 597th were among several regiments being sent in to serve the dual-function of guard duty and clean-up crew. Since most of the Mechanicus' own tech-guard regiments were destroyed in the resulting civil war, that meant the forge world was extremely vulnerable and the Imperium wasn't going to risk having a valuable forge world getting picked off by a roaming Chaos or Ork warband. However, Erebus was so far off the paths through the Warp that the chances of a warband stumbling upon it were marginal at best.

"Looks like we're baby-sitting while the tech-priests clean up the mess," Broklaw said with a sigh of resignation. "According to their estimates, we could be watching over this orbit junk yard for almost as long as they spent blowing it apart."

"Great, so we're going to be stuck for weeks on end doling over patrol and progress reports in cramped little industrial quarters," I replied with similar enthusiasm. Broklaw and I exchanged glances for a second and we must have come to the same conclusion about the potential pitfalls of those plans as we both quickly averted our eyes and quickly went back to the briefing slate. I focused my attention on a series of paragraphs that boringly droned on (though a 'boring briefing slate' is a redundancy in itself) about how the tech-priests were sifting through the collapsed ruins of all their old manufactoriums, trying to recover what working technology they could. Unfortunately, from the sounds of it, a decade was the estimate of some Administratum scribe that had never seen a hole in the ground, let alone an excavation site. If Segmentum Command forgot about our regiment, we could all retire, grow old, and die on Erebus before the tech-priests finished their work. It was a prospect that appeared to be as fun as an in-depth field report on the varying qualities and quantities of sand. The enthusiasm from the other troops was equally abysmal and could be best described as catatonic. I wouldn't have minded colonial duty on a planet like Magnus Viridis but Erebus was a metal box fuming with toxic gases. Just staring at the maps on the briefing slate made me feel a little claustrophobic.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and something interesting will happen," Broklaw commented.

If only life were that simple…

* * *

While the Valhallans were dreading the prospect of watching tech-priests and servitors clear away ferrocrete and broken metal, my spirits were not as dampened. True, I did not like the idea of being bored out of my skull either but the environment of a forge world was not too unlike that of Krieg. Before we were allowed to exit the transport shuttle, everybody inside had to don their gasmasks – a state in which I and my aides were more than comfortable with. For us Kriegans, gasmasks were like a second skin and we thought no different of it than a Valhallan would to wearing a heavy coat. The toxic atmosphere of Erebus presented as a dull brownish haze that glowed orange when sunlight was able to leak through the heavy layers.

As we stepped off the shuttle, Broklaw made an off-handed comment about how the orange miasma that greeted us reminded him of a poison gas attack that he experienced back when he was still a junior officer. I replied that a gas attack would probably be preferable to the air on Erebus, since at least a gas attack would eventually end and disperse. The only way to escape the toxic air on a forge world was to go inside and hope the air filters were working. Again, this was something that as a Kriegan I was perfectly accustomed to as Krieg had a toxic atmosphere of its own thanks to a civil war, which ended with a nuclear winter.

As soldiers and chimeras streamed past me, I gazed out to the starport surrounding us. Unlike my previous deployments, which were to relatively small Imperial worlds, Erebus was a major traffic hub in the sector due to its manufacturing facilities. The total developed landscape of Magnus Viridis could fit inside the main star port of Erebus. It had landing pads that could land transports large enough to ship an entire Titan legion to war. Thanks to the civil war, the star port was relatively quiet, which meant all the regiments being deployed could off-load all at roughly the same time, creating a small metropolis of Imperial guardsmen within the star port. The Valhallan 597th was being sent to the southern territory of Styx, which was one of the hardest hit regions in the dying days of the civil war. Almost eighty percent of the facilities there had been destroyed so the tech-priests had its largest concentration of servitors and heavy equipment stationed there. I doubt it was a mere coincidence that the regiment containing the famed Hero of the Imperium was being sent to the most important sector of the planet.

"If it weren't so muggy, I'd say this feels just like home," my aide Heilmit commented when he appeared at my side. He was likely, one of the least depressed soldiers in the regiment, given his upbeat outlook on life (and his casual indifference towards death). He was likely looking forward to the opportunity to spend his off-hours courting a certain young sergeant who was responsible for the loss of my eye.

Watz, on the other hand, was indifferent as I had expected. It might have been boring but it meant people weren't going to be trying to kill him, which was always a plus in his books. He said nothing at first and merely stayed a few steps behind his friend. "Is the centaur unloaded?" I asked as I turned to the corporal.

"Ready and loaded commissar," Watz replied as he motioned for me to follow along. Like my aides, their vehicle had unofficially been added to the Valhallan regiment. I suspect it was written off as destroyed along with the many others that were scrapped when the heavy armour regiment was decimated by a Tau ambush. The centaur is a reliable little vehicle; it didn't possess the level of armour or firepower as a chimera (or even a full roof) but it was faster and far more manoeuvrable. I preferred those features in a vehicle over than a few extra inches of armour plating. The rest of the regiment was already loading into their respective chimeras in preparation for our journey south to our new field headquarters where Kasteen and Cain had already taken up residence. Cain, in his typical fashion, was on the first set of transports down to the planet. As there were no battles to rush off to, I bet he did that just so he could get first dibs on the best accommodations…not that a forge world offered much in that category. The ruling tech-priests would claim things such as spacious accommodations to be an unnecessary accoutrement and a waste of valuable floorspace. It probably took planet-wide rioting for the tech-priests to realize that the working citizens needed more than a closet's worth of space to live in. If I wanted any hope of getting a decent billet I would have to reach field headquarters before the rest of the convoy – enter my speedy little centaur.

"See you at headquarters Broklaw," I shouted while waving to his chimera. I don't know if he was looking out the window when my centaur passed by but his centaur did break from the convoy and accelerate. It never caught up but it was still amusing to see.

In fact, the drive out of the star port was another one of the few enjoyable moments I had on Erebus. Since almost the entire planet's surface consisted of forests of spires and mountain ranges of factories, the star port and its wide, open air space provided the only place on the ground one could admire…or at least what little view there was. The rising sun made the normally brown haze of the air a more vibrant shade of orange, adding much needed colour to an otherwise drab-looking landscape. In the distance, through the haze of the pollution, I could see thousands of silhouettes of the countless smoke stacks that pierced into the sky like quills on the back of a threatened razorhog. They belched out a constant stream of toxic miasma, though it was about as discernable as a faucet leaking into an ocean. Overhead, masses of heavier pollutants coalesced into poisonous clouds rode upon the air currents, ensuring that even when thousands of feet high, you still couldn't escape the noxious stranglehold that enveloped the world. It was a reminder of what I had always disliked about the Adeptus Mechanicus – their singular focus, their obsession with their quest for knowledge turned worlds like Magnus Viridis into pits of hell such as Erebus. When I was a child I heard stories of Krieg's beauty - its shining cities, towering mountains, lush forest, and vast oceans. The war that took it all away was nothing short of tragic and every Kriegan, though viewing the outcome as a necessity for remaining loyal to the Emperor, mourned the death of our homeworld.

The Adeptus Mechanicus ploughed over worlds without so much as a second thought and would shatter Krieg into dust if they thought the core had a piece of technology they desired. They remove all sense of morality and ethical code from the universe, replacing it with their brand of logic and dogma that make little sense to the rest of humanity. Add on all the instances where I ended up to my tits in trouble because of their antics and I've got a galaxy of reasons to hate them. However, I could fill a tome with about people I hate, so enough digressing.

As we traveled into the city, the coloured hues of the sky faded as towering manufactoriums walled us in, funnelling our convoy through artificial valleys of rubble and steel. What citizenry we saw did not look too enthusiastic about our presence but it was difficult to tell since most people some kind of breather mask. I could not blame them since the last Imperial Guards they saw ended up turning their homes into smoking craters. Telling them that it was in the Emperor's name rarely provides any comfort after a bunch of guardsmen have stormed your house, taken all your food, kicked your dog, stole your pants, made sweet love to your daughter, and then bombed the place into the ground (usually, but not always, in that order). A Kriegan might but if Kriegans had inhabited Erebus they would've blown up their own homes well before the Imperial Guard arrived. Most of the citizens simply watched us in silence as we passed by before turning their attention back to whatever pile of rubble they were trying to clear away.

"What a cheerful bunch of people," Watz commented sarcastically. "Remind me to take a stroll through these streets the next time I'm too cheerful."

"I'm sure they'll be happier when they realize we're not here to blow up what little shit they still possess," I replied.

"But we like blowing shit up," Heilmit said, sounding almost disappointed.

"Must be a guy thing," I muttered.

"Making craters with high explosives enhances our lives; gives it meaning," Watz explained.

"And improves our manliness," his friend added.

I laughed and sighed, shaking my head slowly as I leaned against the centaur's heavy bolter. Normally centaurs were equipped with heavy stubbers but after losing it on Magnus Viridis, Watz managed to get it replaced with a heavy bolter he had salvaged from the fighting. The extra firepower was much appreciated, though I had yet an opportunity to pulp some xenos or heretics with it. Few things were as frustrating as having a new gun and no one to use it on.

As we drew closer to our theatre of operation, the southern territory known as Styx, the amount of rubble and broken ruins we had to circumnavigate increased exponentially. The briefing slate did not do justice to the level of destruction, a fact emphasized when our centaur nearly fell into a crater wide enough to trip over a warhound titan. We had to use the makeshift bridge some enginseers had whipped together in order to continue on our way. Bombed-out buildings, craters, and mountains of rockrete slabs soon became the norm as we travelled deeper into Styx. The brown chemical haze was slightly lighter in that territory, likely due to a lack of manufacturing and the air currents keeping pollutants up north. It made things a little easier to see from a distance, which proved useful when trouble did eventually start coming our way. At the time, though, it merely meant that I didn't have to worry about Watz accidentally running somebody over. Even though things were calm, that didn't stop me from keeping my head on a swivel. The handful of street luminators that still functioned created numerous, odd-shaped shadows amongst the rubble that played tricks on my eyes when mixed with the chemical haze. Just because the civil war was over that didn't mean every pocket of resistance had been flushed out. Even without the rubble, the bombing emptied the entire territory of most of its civilian population, leaving miles upon miles of undercity tunnels ripe for the picking.

"What are you looking at Commissar Abel?" Heilmit spoke up. He had noticed that I had been staring in one direction for a while.

I thought I had seen somebody skulking in the shadows but after a while, and watching a small feral animal dash out from behind the rockrete, I had concluded that I had been mistaken once again. "Just an animal," I answered. Of course, then the thought hit me – there shouldn't be any animals on a forge world. The atmosphere alone should make it intolerable for animal, especially a feral one. Unfortunately, before I could investigate the issue any further whatever it was that had caught my eye was now gone. I wasn't in the mood to go chasing what was likely a mechanical aide.

"Maybe you should sit down and get some rest Commissar," Heilmit suggested as he climbed out of sit. "You've been up all day. I'll take watch."

"I think you're right," I nodded in agreement. "I stay up any longer and I'm probably going to start seeing Eldar in every shadow." My aide's offer was well timed so I sank into my seat, pulled my hat down, and quickly fell asleep to the lullabies of my slow, rhythmic breathing.

* * *

When I awoke to the gentle nudging of my aide's lasgun butt, the centaur had already arrived at the new Valhallan field headquarters. Somehow, through all the bombing runs, a warehouse that encompassed roughly three city blocks had managed to survive in fairly good order. The actual building originally took up five city blocks but it was deemed a bad idea to put sensitive mechanical and electronic systems in an area that had no roof. From what I had read in the briefing slate, Erebus was not a planet you wanted to be caught outside in the rain without an umbrella (which, unfortunately, was frequent). Any rainfall was guaranteed to be more chemical than water, prompting me to keep my hair pinned up more tightly than usual.

I told my two aides to go and find me a nice place to set up shop and then find themselves a comfortable room as well. The speed in which the two headed off on their assigned task spoke volume of how much they enjoyed the little perks of being a commissar's aide. While the rest of the troopers were shacked up wherever we could find space, Watz and Heilmit usually got a comfortable double-room to call home. It wasn't much but a few extra square feet of floorspace and a wall between you and the person you're living with could make all the difference to people whose world barely knew the concept of 'personal space.' Watz often remarked that he needed the personal space to avoid terrifying the women in the regiment when he took his gas mask off. I think he was just sensitive about his facial scaring.

"Good afternoon Penlan," I said with a curt salute to the sergeant when I stepped off my centaur.

"Afternoon Commissar," she replied, returning my salute in kind. "Uhh, how did you know it was me?" Not surprisingly, she was a little confused how I could so easily recognize her despite the gasmask she wore.

"Sergeant's stripes for starters," I pointed out as I tapped her collar. "Plus I'm a Kriegan, we grow up identifying people using traits other than facial features – how you walk, how you carry your gun…and how Heilmit behind me has been watching you from the moment you stepped into view." It was a necessary attribute when you lived on a world with a lot of clones and gas masks. Watz and Heilmit were experts at recognizing people by gait and stance even after a few minutes. Meanwhile, my slightly rustier skills took a few days before it could kick in. I still get surprised when people confused my aides because to me the differences are so obvious even a blind Ork should be able to tell them apart. Watz, for starters, was taller than his friend and he walked with the straight, confident stride that came from his many years of experience; his movements were always slow and calm but precise and with purpose. It gave him the charismatic appeal of a boulder but it suited his role in life. Heilmit, on the other, was more like a young pup…energetic and excited. He moved more erratically, shifting his focus from point to point with the speed of an ADD child on stims. Though he had an attention span that needed a cogitator to measure, it was great for multitasking and lateral thinking (though sometimes he would laterally think himself over a cliff).

"Oh, right…of course," Penlan replied. Even with the mask on I could tell she was embarrassed…probably flustering in that way that brought out the burn scar on her cheek. I always thought it was kind of adorable but I found cuteness in the weirdest places. I once described a Scillalian sea slug as being cute and those things look like somebody's bowels turned inside out. But in my defence, it was trying to suck Heilmit's brain out at the time so the hilarity might have played a factor.

"Have you seen the Colonel or Commissar Cain?" I asked.

"They should be in the Colonel's new office," Penlan answered as she directed me to the doorway leading into the warehouse. "It's located in the foreman's office on the sixth floor." After she gave me a set of directions that made navigating a labyrinth seem simple, I headed on my way to find either one of my objectives. Chances were I would find Kasteen long before Cain but one could always hope. The interior of the warehouse was still a work-in-progress as soldiers and servitors cleared away refuse and rubble to open up hallways and corridors. The entire east wing of the warehouse was the aforementioned area deemed too unstable and 'full of holes' to be useable. I would point out the lack of a third-through-seventh floor would be more problematic than a few holes in the walls and ceiling but who cared about my opinion when it came to structural engineering? I hauled along a tote bag filled with my usual assortment of office equipment as my plan was to stake out my office while I was in the area. Eventually, after asking for directions from some troopers, I managed to find my way to Kasteen's office. The workers had done an excellent job of turning the foreman's former abode into one fit for a regimental commander – her wide, brass-and-wood desk was positioned to give her a clear view of anybody walking in, while allowing her access to the window overlooking the warehouse floor (now turned operations center) with a simple pivot in her chair. The redheaded colonel was handling her work on a dataslate since the tech-priests were still hooking up her personal lectern but the moment she heard me entering the dataslate hit the table.

"If you're looking for Cain, he's wandering around somewhere," she said after the usual meet-and-salute.

"I'm sure he'll find me when he has work to be done," I said jokingly. "So any word yet on our official standing orders?"

"Still the same – sit tight, keep an eye out for heretics, and make sure the tech-priests can do their work in peace." Kasteen sounded as unenthused as everyone else I had talked to but that didn't come as a surprise either. It was no mystery to anybody that Kasteen wasn't a fan of tech-priests. I'm not exactly sure of the reason but I suspect it had something to do with their physical appearances. Maybe there was just something about a guy with hoses and wires where his face should be that bugged her. "Whatever they're digging up here, it must be pretty important for Segmentum Command to be deploying so many regiments to watch over this place."

"Well Erebus does provide almost a third of the supplies to the surrounding sectors so it's probably important to get this planet up and running again," I said with an indifferent shrug. The Adeptus Mechanicus got away with a lot of crazy requests when dealing with the Administratum. The fact the Administratum bends over backwards to keep the tech-priests happy might have something to do with it. "Or maybe the Magos lost his favourite watch…you know how these tech-priests can be. If it so much as ticks they want to get their little robotic mitts on it regardless of the time or costs." Unfortunately, I might have forgotten that I was surrounded by the several tech-priests who were working on setting up Kasteen office and they all immediately stopped and stared when they overhead my little remark. The several pairs of biotic eyes glaring at me felt like a thousand sun lamps. I was filled with an overwhelming urge to get out of the room in a hurry just in case one of the tech-priests could actually burn things with their gaze. "Hey, that guy over there is defacing a dataslate," I shouted and pointed at the window behind Kasteen's desk. Strangely enough, they actually did glance over for a moment and I took that opportunity to bolt out the door.

Normally I don't run from a fight but I wasn't going to shoot a bunch of tech-priests and they would probably enjoy being hit with my shock maul. If anything, I denied them their prize…namely me. So that counted as a victory, right?

Since Kasteen had nothing to provide other than a room full of irritated tech-priests, I figured it was a good a time as any to stake out my new office. There was no shortage of options available to me but the number of good options was in seriously short supply. If I wanted to make my office out of a broom closet I would have been set in an instant, but I wanted something with a bit more legroom and preferably a window of some sort. True there wasn't anything to have a nice view of but I always wanted a room with a window…it was the principle that mattered. For a brief moment I wondered where Cain had pitched up his office but then I realized it was probably somewhere off in a corner where he would be assured of privacy. Normally I would scorn a commissar for making his office so hard to reach but when you were a Hero of the Imperium like Cain, everybody walked through your door when they had an opportunity. Putting his office off the beaten path was likely the only way he could get some work done in peace. I didn't mind keeping my office up front and easily accessible and not just because it was recommended; people only bugged me when they were looking for Cain or when Jurgen was passing off some work to help lighten Cain's load.

After an hour or so of passing through random halls and nearly stumbling into the unstable East wing and its lack of a fifth floor, I managed to find a nice little room on the third floor. It appeared to once belong to some sort of scribe or archivist because there were old crates of rolls and dataslates lying all over the room. I felt a little bad about moving all the stuff around and tossing the scripture rolls and dataslates into whatever boxes I could. Administratum adepts were very picky about their workspaces, especially archivists and stenographers since they obsessed over their system of cataloguing. However, not only was the former occupant of the room likely long dead ,never to return, but I had sufficient authority stored up in my middle finger to kick out any scribe or archivist foolish enough to try and re-claim this space. Still, as a sign of my generous and thoughtful nature, I left the boxes in the corner of the room…just in case somebody came by looking for them. The office was sizeable – it had enough room for several desks, likely so the former occupant could run several projects at once, and it even had a little window in the corner that let in some of the daylight. Unfortunately, it was also as dusty as an under-city so I spent a few hours with a rag, cleaning off everything. The office was going to be a work-in-progress but it wasn't as though I was going to be kept busy with a lot else. Daily reports and discipline filings would likely make up the bulk of my workload. On a planet like Erebus, where boredom would set in before the first patrols were even over, discipline problems were going to be frequent as troopers tried to find different and unique means to keep themselves amused. At least there wasn't anything valuable lying around for them to blow up so I won't be apologizing to the locals very often.

For the uninitiated, let me explain something about troopers and silly-bugger situations they get into that eventually lead to a commissar's disciplinary report. Now you might think that trouble starts when troopers with too much time on their hands, get together and some mother's pride and joy says "Wouldn't it be cool if we (insert stupid idea here). While it may appear that this was the sequence of events that led Trooper Dumbass to fire a rocket at the statue of the local hero while drunk, the truth is quite different. In fact the trooper had hatched this brilliant idea months ago; long before he arrived on said planet. Young troopers with access and contemptible familiarity with explosive weaponry is extremely fertile grounds for 'brilliant ideas.' The statue and the drunken state of mind were just bonus points to be used later when regaling his story to his friends or drinking buddies. What our little budding genius lacked was opportunity. The opportunity to put his plan into motion. And when a regiment has no enemy to fight and goes to garrison, opportunities flourish like weeds in an unkept garden. That's why when troops are in garrison, every spare moment is filled with training, drills, cleaning, inspections, exercises and extra duties. We're not trying to prepare or better the troops, we're trying to kill opportunity.

So after several long and tiring hours, I finally had a room that sort of resembled a commissar's office. I had pushed all the unnecessary desks to the back corner and repositioned the largest of them into the centre of the room. The desk was a bit on the large side and made me seem even smaller when I sat behind it but it had the undeniable benefit of being the only desk that had a flat, undamaged surface. In a pinch I could probably roll up my coat and use it as a bed. And since I had tired myself out rearranging office furniture, I decided to pop off my gasmask, set my head down, and try to get a bit of rest before venturing out to try and find Cain once again.

That idea, evaporated a few hours later when the man I had planned to seek out came and found me instead. I was stirred awake by a poke to the noggin followed by a rhetorical, 'Hard at work I see,' from my fellow commissar. I was a little startled at first, quickly righting myself and readjusting my cap. Cain chuckled slightly at my hasty reaction and probably cause I was flustered from embarrassment. I knew Cain wouldn't hassle me over catching me napping but that didn't stop it from being embarrassing.

"Just…finished organizing the new office," I answered, which was half-true at least.

"Quaint little set-up you have here," he replied as he took a brief look around. "Could use with a liquor cabinet or a recaf dispenser. Maybe your aides can scrounge something up from around the base." No doubt Heilmit would be able to swipe something from the motorpool or the mess hall; he had little shame when it came to procuring items regardless of possession laws. I learned quickly not to ask where his offerings came from. "Interesting little accessory you got there," Cain then commented as he motioned to the side of my head. "I wasn't aware you could find something like that on a forge world."

"Accessory?" I replied with marked confusion. I felt around where he had pointed to and felt something tucked along my ear. It was a flower; a small purple and blue flower with a star-like petal arrangement. It took a second for my waking brain to recognize a Verten Glory, a flower indigenous to Magnus Viridis. "Oh no…"


	2. TWO

**TWO**

Typically when a woman wakes up and is greeted with the gift of a lone flower, it is considered a romantic gesture and the woman will usually be flattered by it. Rarely does a flower leave a person feeling a sense of dread or anxiety. That is unless the idiot suitor has accidentally picked a Catachan Death Blossom, a gift that would quickly leave the recipient writhing in painful convulsions prior to leaking every drop of their blood out of every orifice in their body.

I simply stared in stunned silence at the flower between my fingers. My mouth was agape, unable to find the right words - any words other than excessive, colourful cussing. I desperately wanted it to be some sort of cruel prank but there was only one other person in the regiment who knew of its significance and Watz wouldn't be that cruel…not if he had any aspirations of reaching retirement.

Finally, though, Cain spoke up. "I think that's the first time I've seen a woman react to a flower that way," he said almost jokingly. However, his twitching hands and the look of concern on his face betrayed the tone of his previous remarks. "Would you care to explain Commissar Abel?"

"Kael gave me a flower just like this back on Magnus Viridis," I said at last. Cain's frowned immediately upon hearing the name, he knew full well who the individual was and now he understood the reason for my reaction. The complete report on the events that transpired during the Liberation of Magnus Viridis was privy to only a handful of people in the regiment – namely the senior officers, Cain, and me (our aides also knew the truth but only bits and pieces of the full story). Outside that group, nobody was aware that the wiry scout we had recruited from the local populace was actually an Eldar rogue who had been manipulating everyone from behind the scenes in an attempt to purge all alien presence from the former Eldar world, all without any other Eldar having to go to battle. Due to our interference, however, Kael failed in his ultimate goal but he did not seem disappointed with the end results either. When we last spoke, he had promised that we would cross paths again soon and while I had no reason to disbelieve him, I had not expected it to be so soon. The flower was a signal for me that would go unrecognized by almost anyone else. Despite all the wishing and willing in the galaxy, I could not deny the truth. "He's here. He's here on Erebus and he walked right into my office."

"Is it possible he's out for revenge?" Cain suggested, to which I quickly shook my head. Revenge seemed…unlikely for reasons I could not quite pin down. If he had wanted me dead, he had plenty of opportunity before today to kill me so that couldn't be what he sought. But trying to figure out the motives of an Eldar was like trying to figure out those ink blots that psychiatrists use - it can be whatever you want it to be, and you could be giving your answers all day without ever getting a right answer, simply because there is no right answer. Only interpretations of of what you want to see.

Though it seemed unlike Kael, it was still possible that he planned to ruin our operations on Erebus in order to get revenge for us ruining his plans on Viridis. Personally, that didn't seem like a plausible idea since there wasn't much in terms of plans to ruin and his interference would at least give our troops something to focus on. If anything, that would make our deployment more tolerable. I could not see Kael exercising such poor judgment – he was too careful and methodical for that. This was an Eldar who plotted and prepared a planet's downfall over several decades. He wouldn't rush revenge if that was what he desired. My gut instinct told me that this couldn't be something so simple. "You know him best…what do you think?"

"Honestly, I don't know," I said with a quiet sigh. It's true that I knew Kael a lot better than I should know an Eldar but Cain wasn't aware just how much I knew. I never told anybody about the last conversation Kael and I had in the aftermath of the final battles. It was one of the very few honest conversations I had ever had with the Eldar in all the years I had known him. "Whatever he's up to, it'll be subtle. We'll need to keep our eyes and ears open for anything that doesn't seem to fit quite right. And there are never any coincidences when he's involved."

We also needed to inform Colonel Kasteen of this new development since this changed things completely. Keeping an eye out for traitors was one thing but xenos, especially Eldar, were far more devious and cunning. A human's movements can be predicted, their actions disseminated and anticipated, but an Eldar could shift paradigms so quickly you might as well try to predict the Warp. Unfortunately, my experience with Eldar at the time was limited to my dealings with Kael so I was hardly an expert on the subject. Broklaw and the surviving veterans of the former Valhallan 301st had experience fighting against the Eldar before the formation of the 597th so I expected the Major to have a lot to say on the subject. Fortunately, there was no need to hunt down the senior officers as the whole reason Cain had sought me out was because we had been summoned to a briefing by the Colonel. According to Cain, the Magos responsible for the recovery operations in the Styx territory was surprisingly eager to meet with us in order to discuss security matters. Cain noted some concern about the reason for the meeting as it meant one of two things: either the Magos was a control freak and wanted to make sure our troopers kept clear of his workforce; or there was a major security issue that we were about to be made aware of. Were it not for the lingering thought of Kael skulking in the shadows, I would have looked forward to security issues to break the monotony. Given ther flower, I was reminded of of my previous comment – there were no coincidences.

Rather than meeting Kasteen in her office, we met up with the regimental commander outside the field headquarters. A chimera was waiting on stand-by next to Kasteen, its engine already chugging away, so I got the feeling that we were going on recon as part of the briefing. She greeted us as pleasantly as one could muster when being steam-cooked inside your own coat. Like all the Valhallans, she wasn't comfortable in this level of heat and humidity but like any good soldier she said nothing of it. The effects were noticeable, though, as her movements were kept to a minimal and were somewhat lethargic. She was understandably eager to get us inside the chimera's drier and cooler interior. We were joined by a handful of troops to serve as escort while we were off base.

"So what's this all about Kasteen?" Cain asked once everybody was seated and had loosened their gasmasks (except for me as I perfectly comfortable with it on).

"The cog in charge, a Magos Aureus, said he wanted to meet with us as soon as possible," Kasteen answered. "He said it was urgent."

"Urgent as in 'the base is on fire' or urgent 'my recaf needs a top-up'?" I quipped. It wasn't uncommon for civilians to have starkly different sets of priorities but I figured a Magos would have good reason for summoning Imperial Guard when they had their own techguards to rely upon. "What does he need from us that he can't get from the Skitarii?"

"The civil war saw the Skitarii become fractured like the rest of the Adeptus Mechanicus here. And they're stretched thin enough as it is," Kasteen explained. "Still, he wouldn't tell me over the vox caster. He said something about avoiding raising alarm. I just hope it's a bit of over reaction by the top cog…"

"Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news Colonel but we might have Eldar on the planet," Cain broke the news. Kasteen stared at the two of us for a moment before asking us if we were being serious, to which we both nodded. She cursed quietly under her breath, which was to be expected, before asking how we knew. I explained the flower and its significance to her and she frowned bitterly the moment Kael's name was dropped.

"We'll increase patrols, post additional guards, and get more auspex scanners on the perimeter," Kasteen said decisively. Eldar were notorious for their sabotage campaigns, after all, and we had a field headquarters that wasn't entirely secured against skilled and determined enemies. We still didn't know if we were dealing with one Eldar or a whole army of them but we weren't about to take any chances. Personally, I did not suspect Kael would be leading an army; from what he said to me, I gathered that he was not on the best of terms with his leaders (I do not pretend to know what Eldar politics are like so I had no idea who he had his beef with and what it meant in the long run).

A short time later, the chimera lurched to a halt and the driver advised us to don our gasmasks once more. We filed out of the vehicle and back into the Erebiot haze. We had arrived at a gargantuan excavation site where hundreds of lifters, cranes, plows, and servitors were working tirelessly to clear away debris and expose long-buried passageways and corridors into the depths of the planet. However, instead of it being some sort of ancient ruin swallowed by time and sand, it was the remnants of a massive forgeworks that had been bombed into oblivion by our own navy. Once again, the flyboys made the mess that the folks on the ground had to clean up. The scope of the project was massive – the pit they had cleared away stretched several kilometres across in both directions and was several stories deep. Towers and scaffolding lined the walls and elevators large enough to carry baneblades ferried equipment and personnel to and from the surface. A small city of hab-shelters and pre-fab buildings surrounded the pit; it was strangely reminiscent of a frontier town in a post-apocalyptic sort of way. Masses of servitors teemed like insects at the bottom of the pit with directing tech-priests scattered throughout. Pounding pneumatic hammers, screeching grinders, churning engines, and crashing metal all merged together into one headache-inducing, ever-constant industrial groan that seemed to embed itself right into one's mind. It almost made me envious of the tech-priests, who could adjust their bionic ears to filter out all the noise.

"That's the biggest hole I've ever seen," I remarked.

"You should've seen the one we left on Simia Oricalcae," Cain jived.

"I heard you damn near blew up that whole planet."

"Not for a lack of trying."

I was about to ask where we were supposed to go from here but before I could a small precession of robed figures approached us. The parade contained a couple of Administratum adepts amongst several tech-priests, the former being easy to identify due to the different coloured robes and the use of gasmasks. It didn't take an Inquisitor to figure out that the man that everyone else followed like a vapour trail was the Magos in charge. He was wiry individual, hunched over slightly as though the mechadendrites attached to his back were proving too heavy for his aging body to handle (but that was unlikely since his body was mostly metal by this point). His white robes hung over his frame like a shirt on a wire coat hanger but even though the hood partially concealed his face, his glowing yellow optics were plain to see. What little of his face we could make out was the massive beard-like hanging of wires and cables that traveled down his face, chin, and neck before disappearing into his robes.

Kasteen, Cain, and I lined up as the parade came to a halt before us. The man in the lead took a few steps towards us while the others kept back, his arms opening wide as if to embrace us all at once. "Blessings of the Omnissiah be upon you," he greeted in an old, rusty tone. "I am Magos Aureus and welcome to my dig." He was remarkably cheerful for a tech-priest, especially a Magos (who I find tend to be on the stuffy side), but it was nice to be welcomed in a way that didn't involve incoming fire. There are no prizes for guessing whom the Magos approached and greeted first, bowing polite as he continued with his jovial greeting, "Commissar Ciaphas Cain…you do us great honour with your presence. And I must say that I am most relieved that you have taken the time to meet with us. The last bunch of Guardsmen that passed through here barely gave us the time of day. They were a bunch of ruffians if you ask me…if you're going to blow up half my district the least you can do is stop by and say hello once in a while."

"I'm afraid I can't promise to stop by and say hello very often but we should be able to avoid blowing up the other half," Cain replied. "Now you mentioned you had something urgent to discuss."

"Urgent?" Aureus repeated with a hint of confusion.

Just then, one of the Administratum adepts crept up behind the Magos and tapped one of the mechadendrites. "The Commissar is referring to those um…'problems' that your brother and Drusus kept mentioning." I quickly garnered the impression that Aureus wasn't the type of leader that personally kept tabs on every little detail carried out by his subordinates. Given the size and scope of the project, I could understand how it would be difficult to have kept track of everything going on. An efficient command hierarchy would allow the Magos to stay focused on the most important matters…or Aureus was a few chips short of a full motherboard. He seemed odd even for a tech-priest.

"Oh right, that little thing," Aureus replied as though he were just reminded to empty the trash bins. "And I almost forgot…this is Administratum Ordinate Anargyros. He helps me keep tabs on all the little things that go on around here so if you have any non-technical questions he'll probably have the answer to them."

Cain cleared his throat to get the Magos attention once again. "Not to sound hasty but that matter of urgency your assistant mention?"

"Of course, of course," Aureus said while nodding. "I should have expected that you would want to cut to the chase. What else can you expect from a 'Man of Action' such as yourself, hm? We should probably speak with my brother and Drusus in person. It'll give you a chance to get acquainted to – grease two cogs with a single lubrication!" The Magos motioned for us to follow along, though he only got about six feet before he stopped and looked to the precession of tech-priests and adepts. "Oh, um…don't need you lot. You can go do…uh, whatever it is that you do when I'm not around. Oh, except for you Anargyros, you can join us." The parade dispersed with barely restrained zeal, clearly relieved to no longer being required to stand around make the Magos look important. Part of me wondered if that was all they were for.

The Magos led our small party on a short walk through the pre-fab town, whose inhabitants didn't differ much from that any other town. I watched some workers mill about in a slow yet oddly organized and precise fashion and then I realized I was actually watching a bunch of servitors and not real people. It was hard to tell as everybody was draped in grubby, oil and dirt-stained robes and garbs and those that didn't have gasmasks had shawls to help keep dust from clogging…whatever it is that servitors have inside them. I assumed it was for the dust since the excavation work kicked so much of it into the air; the only other use I could think of was to keep the ugly contained since servitors often made even Ogryns look pretty in comparison. Eventually, the Magos led us inside one of the larger hab-domes, much to the relief of those of those not used to wearing gasmasks for extended periods. The cots, gun racks, and footlockers indicated that the hab-dome was being used as a barracks.

"Oh Drusie, I'm hooommeee," the Magos called out upon stepping into the main living area. He chuckled like adolescent juvie as he turned to the rest of us and quipped, "he hates it when I call him that."

My sense of respect for the man was gradually dwindling in face of his lack-lustre professionalism but that took a massive about-face when Drusus stepped out. Drusus was the ranking officer of the Skitarii forces on the dig site and the man was built like a tank…literally; with integrated bionic armour and weapons too. Aureus must have commanded a great deal of respect (and possessed solid brass bearings) to give annoying pet names to a guy with a chainsword built into his arm. The Skitarii officer was about the size of a suit of terminator armour and looked just as intimidating. "What is it Magos Aureus?" the Skitarii spoke, a slow and heavy tone that seemed to echo from within.

Quick introductions were made or I should say two of the three introductions were made quickly; Aureus' mighty neural engine sputtered and stalled when it came to recalling my name (which was probably never given to him in the first place) so I had to make my own introduction. "I was hoping you could enlighten our new guests as to that little situation you mentioned to me a few days back."

"I would hardly consider dead soldiers to be a…'little situation,'" Drusus replied with a hint of bitterness. Talk of dead soldiers, however, piqued our attention and left a bad feeling in my gut. Cain asked for further elaboration but Drusus did not seem overly distressed about it. "Ever since the war's end, we've been having trouble with looters from the vagrant plebeians. Normally a few shouts and warning shots keep them at bay but every so often a bunch of them group together and start getting bold. Four days ago I lost two good men while they were on patrol. It was…troubling."

"Troubling how so?" Cain asked, his tone hinting at growing concern. Cain was always the first to pick up on the subtle cues of more dire things to come so when he took notice, the rest of us followed suit. "And how were they killed?"

"I've lost troops in the past but it was during raids or in pursuit of looters. Patrols have never been targeted before – such changes in behaviour are not signs of good things to come. As for how they died, they were both killed with medium-sized bladed weapons from behind. They were likely ambushed."

Cain, Kasteen, and I all exchanged glances. The mere mention of Eldar had made us all wary of the possibility. From my years of experience, one of the Eldar's most potent weapons was that pervasive sense of paranoia and fear. It's not as bad as stalking through a thick jungle at night surrounded by Tyranids (thank you very much Tycondis IV) but the effects were significant. Every shadow looked like a scout; every breeze across your nape was a banshee about to stab you in the back; and every mystery reeked of psychic manipulations. The situation could very well have been as Drusus had described it but now Kasteen did not want to take any chance.

"I take it you haven't had a chance to investigate the area further?" Kasteen inquired.

"Negative. I don't have enough reserves to risk sending people that far out. My forces are already being bolstered by more combat servitors than I'm comfortable with." Cain commented that it was odd for a techguard to be 'uncomfortable' with the use of combat servitors but the captain's response mirrored my own sentiments on the subject. "Combat servitors are good for point defence and escort but they're useless for patrols, which is where most of my forces are allocated."

A combat servitor was little more than a walking, automated gun. Patrols needed critical decision-making skills but a servitor could only choose between 'kill' and 'don't kill' and even then it sometimes picked the wrong one. Kasteen was quick to point out that with the Valhallan troops now bolstering the defence her troops could run patrols into the more dangerous regions. She seemed eager to find any Eldar and flush them out. Cain suggested that she remain with Captain Drusus to continue discussing how to best maximize their combined forces while he and I went to speak with the other person the Magos had mentioned. A part of me still wishes I had stayed behind with Kasteen.

* * *

The other man that Magos Aureus had made mention of was his brother – a tech-priest by the name of Zalanskos Heffestis. Cain and I headed back into the shanty town along with the Magos and his aide but half-way through our travel, our party was intercepted by one of the Administratum flunkies from earlier. I didn't catch all of the conversation but the Magos had to speak with some of the other Magos from across the planet – a meeting that Aureus apparently forgot all about. I refrained from asking how somebody with chips for brains could forget anything, let alone something important. Since Cain and I were still on business, Aureus instructed the diminutive Anargyros to take us the rest of the way, which wasn't a big deal since Aureus didn't even really know where we were going in the first place (we were all following Anargyros to begin with). I wondered how the project managed to stay together with a tech-priest like that in charge since his aide seemed to know more of what was going on. Such roles are not uncommon in the Administratum but I had expected more from the Adeptus Mechanicus. Over the years I've learned that the Adeptus Mechanicus are just as human as the rest of the Imperium, at least when it came to acts of atrocity, madness, and idiocy.

The tech-priest we sought was eventually found in one of the many motor pools in the pre-fab town. Despite its size, only a handful of vehicles were actually present in the garage, most were out in the field. What few vehicles were present were in rough shape, most of the damage came about from expected wear-and-tear but as we passed by some heavy-lifters I noticed crude cut-lines along the side, as though somebody had removed a side-panel without the proper tools.

"So where is this guy?" I impatiently asked when our search through the garage did not turn up an immediate result. Little did I know that we didn't have to actually search for the man.

"There you are, you recaf-slurping little son of a bitch!" A shout suddenly echoed from behind us. Anargyros almost jumped out of his skin and were he not already a pasty shade of white he probably would have turned paler too. Emerging from behind a partially-dismantled flatbed, an irate tech-priest came stomping towards our guide. "I sent you three blasted requisition slates! Not one, not two, but three farking slates and you have the audacity to turn around and tell me to submit another one! I ought to carve out my order right onto your frakking skull!"

Bureaucracy – it brings out the best in all of us.

"I keep telling you the format you're using is outdated," Anargyros replied from the safety of behind Cain's back. The adept looked terrified but given how angry the tech-priest looked I couldn't blame him. Zalanskos wasn't a big fellow but like any tech-priest he had a bunch of mechadendrites swaying in the air. I counted three smaller, tendril-like arms connected at the waistline, along with two much larger arms that hung from a back-mounted unit not too unlike those of the enginseers in our motor pool. Two of the tendrils had grasping claws that were snapping constantly in Cain's general direction, to which the Commissar did not look very pleased about.

"Outdated? You change formats every other day without even telling us! I've have random-number generating cogitators that make more sense than you," shouted the tech-priest as he lunged for the adept.

"Gentleman, please," Cain interrupted, halting the tech-priest with an outstretched arm and pushing the adept back with the other. "I presume you are the tech-priest Zalanskos."

"Tech-priest?" he replied incredulously and seemingly offended. He was hard to read since he didn't have much of a face to read from. The whole upper-half of his head appeared to be biotically-augmented, though the hood from the trademark Mechanicus red cloak made it hard to determine the full extent. I was glad to see he had a mouth so I at least had something to punch if I got angry. "I am the Artisan Technicus, you ill-informed Neanderthal. And who the frak are you two?"

"Commissar Ciaphas Cain of the Valhallan 597th Ice Warriors," Cain began, "and this is Commissar Ariel Abel."

Zalanskos took a few moments to size the two of us up (though mostly Cain since I was almost a whole foot shorter than my counterpart). Blue optic lenses gazed lifelessly at us, accompanied by a bit of a humming that sounded more like a high-voltage line. "Guardsmen, huh? Are you people actually here to help for a change or should I just rig det-packs on all my vehicles and save you guys the trouble?"

"It depends on how much you continue to annoy me," Cain explained with a hand visibly placed on the butt of his laspistol.

Zalanskos frowned slightly but at least he seemed calmer as the tendrils withdrew and fell silent. "I take it you are here about the sabotaged equipment then?"

"You're certain it's sabotage?" I asked.

"That or a genetically-repressed primate with a plasma-cutter is opening up my vehicles are removing key components!" Zalanskos motioned for us to follow and he led us to one corner of the garage that had a dozen vehicles in various states of disassembly. Some had what appeared to be scarring in the bodywork from internal explosions, either from catastrophic mechanical failures or deliberate detonations. "At first it was just missing components – some connectors here, a motivator there, sacred oils replaced with faulty ones. It was basic stuff that would prevent the great machines from functioning. But my lackeys have been able to keep on top of those minor repairs so whoever was behind this decided to take it to the next level. Now it's even more vital components like pressure regulators and plasma coolant lines. Now instead of not starting, they frakking explode! It wouldn't be so bad if my underlings had more than two cogs to churn. I mean, look at this thing!" Zalanskos directed our attention to a front-end loader that had its engine completely dismantled and strewn across a section of floor. I imagined that it all made sense to the tech-priest but to me it looked like a random pile of metal bits and pieces. According to Zalanskos this was a tremendous offence to the great Machine God. "I could do a better job in half the time."

"Well why don't you?" I asked.

"And waste my valuable time? What do I look like?" he quickly replied.

"Um…a tech-priest?" My answer was met with a silent stare. If he had a brow he would probably be giving me his angriest glare but without those features it was little more than a blank stare.

"I am the Master Artificer Zalanskos Heffestis! Former care-taker of the dreadnaught Hercuel the Thunderfist! Creator of the Hammer of Ker'Abyss! I have enginseers to deal with these minor issues so that I can focus my genius on more important things – things that explode!"

"What is it with men and high explosives?" I remarked rhetorically. "Look around you Zalanskos - you don't need more high explosives."

The tech-priest scoffed at the notion. Apparently he was in the school of thought that one could never have enough explosives. "There is always a need for weapons. This planet might be in shambles but the galaxy is still turning and wars are still being fought. I could be out there…crafting weapons that make the very earth quake in response. But instead, my brother sees fit to waste my genius here as punishment…" Cain popped the obvious question as to what exactly he was referring to. Zalanskos let out a groan as he clearly did not enjoy having his 'precious time' wasted by our constant questions. "When the rebels dug into this area, the Imperial Navy needed a bomb delivery system that could deal with the reinforced rockrete and plasteel infrastructure. So, naturally, I designed one for them. I figured it was better for this place to be a smoking crater in the ground than turned to heresy by those rebels, am I right? Well, I might have slightly miscalculated the effective payload of the device by a bit…"

"By how much?" I asked.

"Six hundred and eighty-five point three percent. There was an unforeseen chain reaction," he replied with a barely concealed hint of pride. "Magos Aureus wasn't too happy about the result so now I'm stuck here cleaning up the mess. It was hardly my fault that my masterpiece worked better than I had anticipated. But you can't forge iron without crushing a few rocks, right?" It was hard to feel sorry for the guy despite his attempts to make it seem like he was the victim. And his appointment to this project just made me question the judgment of the Magos even further. However, I could hardly be one to criticize given the innumerable times that it has felt as though the Imperial Guard was being ordered about by bureaucratic idiots who couldn't tell the difference between the business end of a lasgun and their arsehole. There are still days where I am certain that it is the Emperor's will alone that keeps the Imperium from imploding from the ineptitude of its own leadership.

Now Cain, always one to keep the bigger picture in mind, decided that it would be best to start taking command of the situation. "Listen tech-priest, we're going to bring in some of the enginseers from our motor pool to take a thorough look at these machines. I can assign a few to help in the repair rites but they're going to analyze the damage in depth."

"I've looked at these machines quite thoroughly already! What do you think you're mere enginseers will discover that I didn't?" No surprise, Zalanskos was offended at the implication that he had overlooked something but Cain was not shaken by the tech-priest's reaction. Many would argue that irritating the high priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus was a bad idea but Cain was fearless in the face of all the enemies of the Imperium; he wasn't going to be intimidated by a tech-priest.

"Well did you take into consideration the possibility of sabotage by Eldar technology?" Cain replied.

"Eldar technology? What kind of idiot do you-" the tech-priest abruptly stopped mid-sentence and glanced over to the pile of mechanical bits scattered across the ground. "I hadn't thought of that. This changes everything." That came as no surprise to Cain or myself and I made sure the tech-priest was looking away before letting my eye roll. Cain instructed me to stay while he went and put in the call for some enginseers to be shipped over. I would have preferred to have gone with him, since I wanted to get as far away from Zalanskos as possible, but he insisted that I stay and continue questioning him. I had to trust that Cain knew what was best for the situation, even if it did involve me once again getting the short end of the stick. Once Cain was gone, the tech-priest began sifting through the scattered pieces with his mechadendrites. "So…uh, what made you people think Eldar?" he asked curiously, clearly unable to see a connection from his brief glances.

"It's a long story," I answered with the hope that he would not pry for further details.

"And you think they're behind all this?"

"It's still just a suspicion."

Unfortunately, we didn't have to wait very long before we got confirmation on that suspicion…


	3. THREE

**THREE**

With Cain playing vox-tag with the regiment's command center, I was stuck questioning the irritable little tech-priest. He wasn't irritating in the usual way that tech-priests are, constantly spouting their holier-than-thou nonsense and flaunting their superior understanding of technological lore. I probably would have preferred it over his 'you're messing up my concentration with your presence' attitude that he was giving me. Unfortunately, I still had more question for him but getting meaningful answers from him was like pulling teeth from an Ork. The simple questions like as 'how long have these incidences been happening?' and 'who has access to where the vehicles are kept?' were answered in a quick, terse manner by the tech-priest. My more detailed questions like the exact nature of some of the damage were met with deflection and dismissal; in the form of 'you couldn't possibly understand'.

"Look cogboy, I'm not asking for a ten-page dissertation on the theory of warp travel, I just want a simple overview," I reiterated for the fifth time in the conversation. Zalanskos had shifted the conversation across the garage (or was trying to get away from me) and was now trying to avoid talking to me by hiding in the partially-emptied hull of modified Trojan. Stubbornness decreed I not let him win so I simply stood over the hole where he was working in and waited for him to poke his head up, which he did every few minutes.

"And just because a las-cutter sounds like a lasgun doesn't mean you would have any clue what I'm talking about," he insisted when his head poked back up. Every time he popped up it was tempting put my boot on his face in a game of 'whack-a-dolt' but my better judgment cooled my temper. "Explaining this mess to you would be about as useful if you just looked at it for yourself!" he added before dropping back inside.

Crouching down, I lowered my head into the vehicle's hull for a brief moment. My bionic eye allowed me to see with a bit more clarity in the ill-lit confines of the Trojan. The vehicle had been modified with a heavy-duty laser-emitter in place of the front-mounted heavy bolter. It was likely used to cut through the foundry's heavy metal plating so it could then use its crane to clean up the debris. Judging by the scorching and blast damage, somebody had tampered with the las-cutter to cause a critical overload. I would hate to have been the one inside when it went off.

Now while most commissars and soldier's understanding of a laspistol, or laser weapons in general, is how to keep it clean, where the power pack goes, and which end you point, I had a far more thorough understanding of the hardware. A hotshot laspistol requires far more maintenance than its standard-power counterpart. As a result, people who use such weapons learn their weapons inside and out. I, personally, am capable of rebuilding my laspistols if given the necessary components and not just in an 'A goes into B' manner. A las-cutter operated on the same principles but simply on a larger scale so making sense of the mess I saw in the Trojan was actually a lot easier than Zalanskos had anticipated. "Umm, looks to me like somebody rewired the discharge generator to create a feedback loop that bypasses the heat sinks and dumps directly into the capacitors."

Right on cue, Zalanskos popped his head back up. I wished he had a more human face so I could have seen the stunned look in his eyes but I had only his bewildered silence to take satisfaction from. "You cheated. Who told you the answer? Is there somebody on your vox?" The tech-priest's disbelief was to be expected.

"My tutor had me dismantle and rebuild this laspistol until I could do it running eyes closed through the obstacle course," I explained as I tapped my prized hotshot laspistol. "I know my way around a laser weapon system."

"Interesting," he replied reluctantly as his bionic hand stroked his chin. "Not many people are blessed with knowing the secrets of the weapons they carry."

"I know the necessary rites of repair, maintenance, activation, calibration, reconfiguration, and even reconstruction," I said perhaps a bit too smugly.

"Perhaps you are not as stupid as I thought," he muttered. How flattering. "Still, it's an amateur's assessment at best but what can you expect from a meatsack?"

"Shut up cog-head."

We didn't say anything to each other for a while. He was content to work in silence and I couldn't think of anything to say that didn't start with my boot up his arse. It's like my father always told me, 'if you can't say anything without the overwhelming urge to shoot the person, then don't say anything at all.' However, I suspect my father never anticipated me becoming a commissar as my job often entailed shooting people while spouting pithy one-liners. Despite Cain's instructions to continue questioning the tech-priest, I had lost interest in any kind of interaction with the cog so I took a seat atop the Trojan and hoped that orders or Cain came soon. Aside from occasional mutterings from the tech-priest and my heels tapping against the side of the vehicle, all became quiet in the garage.

Unfortunately, while I had decided against further discussion, the tech-priest had become engorged with curiosity. After a few blessed minutes of silence, his head emerged from a small hatch on the side located directly between my ankles. "What sort of las weapon are you carrying to necessitate such knowledge?" he asked. Rather than explain myself, I figured it'd be faster and less taxing if I just simply showed him. I pulled out my hotshot laspistol and dangled it over his head for him to see. "Curious…" he said softly as a mechadendrite emerged from another opening and plucked the weapon from my hand. Normally I would turn my shock maul on anybody for taking a weapon out of my hand but tech-priests revered these sorts of things so I knew my gun was in safe hands. The mechanical claw gripped it tightly, rotating slowly so he could view it from every angle. His voltage-like humming intensified for a brief moment before he said, "Quality craftsmanship though I've made better. A few of these modifications could be more efficient and the weight could certainly be reduced."

"Are you offering?" I asked. I wasn't expecting an actual offer but I wasn't about to pass up the opportunity from a master artificer. My hope was that his disdain for his current workload would make him more willing.

"I'll build you a new one if you can get me out of this Omnissiah-forsaken pit."

"How willing would your brother be to letting you go?"

"It's one of those 'over his dead body' things unfortunately," he sighed as he returned my laspistol. He disappeared back inside the Trojan but continued the conversation. "Tell me Commissar, how much experience do you and your regiment have in dealing with Eldar?"

There was a question I was not very comfortable with answering. Admitting your lack of experience was always a bit…embarrassing for me. Being a new commissar is no less difficult than being a new recruit or a freshly-graduated junior officer – people expect you to know things and they become disappointed when you have to admit that your limited experience has left you clueless. Kriegans do not like letting people down; we avoid failure like it's a full-blown heresy. "I've…uh, only been with the regiment for a short time so I'm not completely familiar with their history," I answered while deflecting the topic away from me. "But our officers and soldiers have had prior encounters with Eldar forces in the past."

"I see…" was his response but I gathered from his tone that he had not been instilled with a sense of confidence in us. "And what exactly makes you people so certain there are, in fact, Eldar on Erebus?"

"Oh, that? It's a, um…a long story," I hastily replied in hopes of avoiding the issue.

Somewhere in all the layers of bionics and computer chips, I suspect that Zalanskos has a groxshit detector because he saw right through me. He emerged once more through a larger roof hatch near the crane, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the vehicle's roof. "I've got time," he said coyly.

I had to choose my words carefully to try and avoid arousing his curiosity further but I couldn't take too long or else he would be suspicious of my answer. "We…uh, found an item that we believe is connected to an Eldar that we have encountered in the past."

"What kind of item?" he asked suspiciously. Lying to people has never been a strong suit of mine. I have always been inclined towards the cold, hard cudgel of truth. People often responded well to logic and reasoning or, should those fail, threats of violence and blackmailing. He already knew I was trying to hide something from him and he wasn't going to stop prying until he found the truth. Cain was better at deflecting than I was and I soon wishing for his timely arrival. Alas, I was on my own and I eventually acquiesced.

"It…it was a flower…" I said in a near-whisper.

"A what?" he asked.

"A flower. We found a flower."

"Oh, well then hallelujah! Praise the Omnissiah that we have such watchful and vigilante soldiers standing guard!" Zalanskos began with his sarcasm dials cranked to eleven and arms outstretched towards the ceiling. "Emperor preserve us! The herald of the foul xeno has been discovered in the verdant bosom of the Magnoliophyta! What kind of tar-balling, unrefined, oil sludge is that? A flower? The most technological gifted species in the galaxy leaves a pollen-covered bug catcher as a calling card?" He was understandably annoyed but he didn't know the full significance of the flower, nor did he seem intent on letting me get to that point. "I can't believe you've got me worked up over that! Maybe you haven't noticed but we are on one of the most technologically advanced planets in the sector. We have eyes watching almost every inch of rockrete in this district. If there were Eldars creeping around in the shadows and through our camp, I'm pretty damn certain somebody would have noticed by now!"

Just then there came a sudden and loud crashing noise; the terrifying, bowel-loosening sound of plasteel being torn asunder by a powerful force. Our eyes raced to the far wall where we saw two giant hands piercing through the wall, bending back the plasteel as though it were warm rubber. The peeling sections of wall soon revealed a monstrous Eldar war machine. There was no mistaking its origin – Eldritch runes were carved into its white and green armoured frame. The first thought that crossed my mind, other than 'oh frak, we're all going to die,' was an almost staunch scepticism; as though my mind could not accept that something so lithe, so seemingly fragile, was ripping through the wall with absolute ease. Alarms began to blare but we were already well aware of the danger.

"Wraithlord!" I shouted needlessly as Zalanskos and I dove into the Trojan. It wasn't the most secure piece of cover but a second later shuriken fire began rattling against the hull so it was safer than out in the open. My comm-bead screamed to life with vox chatter. It became apparent that we were not the only part of the facility under attack. Through the chatter I heard a familiar voice calling my name.

"Commissar Abel, what is your situation? Report!" It was Cain and judging by his voice his situation wasn't much better than mine.

"I'm under attack from an Eldar wraithlord inside the garage. I've got the tech-priest with me but we're pinned down by shuriken fire," I answered. "What's your status and location?"

"I'm in the communication spire with Magos Aureus and Colonel Kasteen," Cain shouted before a series of explosions drowned out all other noise. "I count thirty-plus infantry plus a couple of transports. Captain Drusus and some tech-guards are fighting at the ground level to keep the Eldar out. Our chimera is inbound and I'm going to try and extract the VIPs." While I applaud Cain's tactical thinking and his willingness to hold back Eldar soldiers in order for Kasteen and the Magos to escape, this meant that nobody was going to come bail me out of trouble. Were I dealing with some infantry I wouldn't be quite so concerned. Infantry I could at least fight back against but a wraithlord was a heavily armed and armoured war machine and it seemed intent on my destruction. "Try and regroup with a squad of Skitarii or find your way to our position. I'm afraid there's nothing else I can do from here."

"Well I'll see what I can do," I replied and sighed heavily once I closed the line.

"We're doomed aren't we?" Zalanskos inquired.

"At least we've got some protection in here," I said. Unfortunately, I spoke too soon as a high-powered laser bolt suddenly punched through the Trojan, missing both of us by a narrow margin. "Please tell me the engine in this thing still works!"

"It should," Zalanskos replied as he clambered to the front of the Trojan and into the driver's seat. "But most of its sacred fluids have been drained. Operating the engine will cause the machine great pain."

Cautiously peering through one of the panel-less hatches, I saw the wraithlord had climbed in through the hole and was now on its way over to stomp us into a bloodstained metal pancake. The thought of pulling my laspistol out and shooting did cross my mind for a moment but I soon dismissed the idea as foolish. The war machine's armour was far too strong for my weapons to do any harm and the only thing I would likely accomplish would be to motivate it to kill us faster. At the moment it strolling leisurely towards us, though it took only a few of its massive strides to reach us. "We're all going to be in great pain if you don't get this bucket moving!" I shouted.

"Don't rush me!"

"I'm not, he is!" I replied as I watched the wraithlord raise a fist above its bulbous head. I was about to jump ship and leave the tech-priest to become one with his Machine God when suddenly the wraithlord let out a bizarre roar. It sounded enraged, yet it was muffled and raspy, like a phantom screaming in the night. It reeled back, clutching at its head for some reason.

"What in the warp is going on?" Zalanskos asked.

"Frak if I know but it's buying us time," I answered and shouted at him to get back to starting the vehicle. After a few more attempts, several strings of profanities, and few extra-long prayers to the Omnissiah, the Trojan's engine rumbled to life. Though there wasn't any need to remind him, I shouted at the coghead to floor it. Without the weight of numerous panels, several batteries, and parts of a laser assembly, the Trojan took off with a mighty lunge, which took me by surprise and sent me unceremoniously tumbling face-first into the floor. Nonetheless, it was better than being the toy in a wraithlord's game of 'kick the can.' The Trojan punched through the garage's main door and into the hazy streets where techguards and civilians were scrambling in all directions as they tried to make sense of the situation. Some of the soldiers were beginning to get organized into defensive firing lines and in the distance I could see silhouettes through the orange haze firing back at the techguards. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't run while others stood and fought but I had to help Cain and the others at the communication spire.

Unfortunately, we only got a few hundred meters away when the Trojan let out an unhealthy 'ka-clunk' sound. I was no engineer but that sound could be universally translated as a vehicle's way of saying 'go on without me.' The engine struggled loudly to stay alive but eventually it ground to halt and smoke began flooding the cabin. "That's all we're going to get out of this vehicle," Zalanskos said, stating the obvious. We had no choice but to proceed on foot. He reassured me that the communication spire wasn't too far from our current position and pointed it out to me. His definition of 'close' was different than mine since it was at least a few kilometres away. It was hard to gauge the distance due to the spire being partially concealed by the smog. The streets were gradually clearing as civilians took refuge inside the pre-fab units, leaving just the soldiers running in all directions. Judging by the sound of the gunfire, the town was being assaulted on several fronts, which meant the already over-extended skitarii were being stretched even further. As we raced through the streets, I could not help but wonder what was the purpose to all this. If the Eldar were behind the sabotage campaign then why suddenly switch to blatant offensive? Perhaps the Valhallans' arrival threw a wrench into their carefully constructed plan. If that was the case, then it meant they were going to be taking greater risks and we could use that to our advantage. That thought, however, relied on a number of assumptions that didn't necessarily apply to the Eldar – they do not necessarily respond to escalation in kind. Some might argue that is what makes the Eldar so cowardly…while a realist argues that's what makes the Eldar so dangerous.

My train of thought was interrupted by the roar of a heavy bolter. It was a reassuring sound and I instinctively began shifting my direction towards the source. It also meant I was running towards a firefight but that thought did not cross my mind until I found the source. It was our chimera, stopped in the middle of the street and firing its front-mounted heavy bolter at a building down the road. As the vehicle was under only small arms fire, I saw no reason why it would be stationary and that worried me greatly. I also noticed that the turret was likewise motionless with its barrel pointed off to its right. The troopers inside had exited and taken cover around the chimera, firing back at the enemy positions occasionally but often being forced to keep their heads down.

"That doesn't look good," Zalanskos commented.

"No shit! Soldiers don't climb out of a chimera without good reason," I replied.

"I meant none of the chimera's lights are on," he said. I had no noticed that fact as I had been concerned with the tactical overview rather than whether the vehicle's headlights had been left on.

I voxed ahead and alerted the troops to our approach. Fortunately, our avenue of approach kept the chimera between us and the enemy but I hurried across the open street nonetheless. Another fact that I had failed to notice was that only half the squad was present and the ranking soldier was the squad's ASL rather than its sergeant – a Corporal McTam. She was glad to see a familiar face though I detected a hint of disappointment that I was not the commissar they were hoping for. "I thought Commissar Cain wanted this chimera at the spire," I stated once I reached the corporal.

"The xenos hit it with some kind of grenade and now it won't start," McTam explained. "The sergeant tried to take his fireteam and continue on foot," she explained and directed my attention down the road where four guardsmen lay dead. "They got cut to ribbons once they were out in the open. Now Davis is inside trying to get the chimera started again but he doesn't seem to be having much luck." Luckily I just happened to have in tow a man who made his living dealing with machines. It didn't take much to convince Zalanskos to head inside; in fact, it didn't take anything because when I looked for the man, I was told he had already gone inside the chimera. Either he felt sympathetic towards the chimera (don't ask me how a person can feel sympathy for a machine, it's a tech-priest thing) or he just really wanted to get out of the firefight.

I tried to take a peak around the corner but the moment I did several guns opened fire at my position; even with aliens, the commissar's cap acted as a bullet magnet. "How long have you guys been stuck here?" I asked.

"Pretty much since the trouble started," McTam said after risking a brief glance at the enemy's position. "Right after we got off the vox with Cain, the xenos hit us and the chimera went dead. Since then they've only been making sure we stayed put."

"Bizarre," I muttered. They were in a superior position for launching an assault on ours – they had the advantage of elevation for a base of fire and plenty of cover to make an approach. Just then all the pieces fell together and an unsettling realization dawned on me. "The spire is their target," I said.

"Well Cain did say he was under attack," McTam remarked.

"Correct, but they're attacking all over the town, drawing defenders away from the spire. And here they are keeping us from getting to the spire as well. The spire has to be their main target."

"That doesn't explain why they aren't just killing us," she retorted but trying not to make it sound like she was complaining about that fact.

I could only hazard a guess as to why they were keeping their distance but I had a theory. "Well if I were attacking a numerically superior force with the aim to draw defenders away I would engage them just enough to keep them occupied so as to not risk losing what few soldiers I have."

It took a moment but after thinking it over the corporal understood what I was getting at and also what it implied. "Meaning…if we can hit them back, they'll probably lose their courage and back off." I nodded to the corporal. "Are you suggesting we rush them?"

I shook my head. "I would rather save that for a last resort," I replied. While it would have been the solution for most other commissars, I wasn't interested in throwing my life away over a few Eldars holed up in a pre-fab building. Plus we wouldn't last more than a second even with all the courage and zeal in the galaxy. Maybe if we were Astartes we could pull it off but we didn't have any suits of power armour at our disposal. I did, however, have another idea in mind. "Cog-boy, what's our status?" I voxxed.

"Almost all of the electronics are fried," Zalanskos replied with a great deal of frustration. "The engine can still run but without an outside power source I can't get the ignition rites started. I'm going to try and jury-rig something from some of the lasguns." I hadn't the slightest clue what the tech-priest was going to attempt but he was more likely to succeed than any of us.

"What about the turret? Can you get the heavy bolters back up?"

"The bolters themselves will function but without power the turret is dead weight," he reported.

"Any way to get it moving?"

"I could provide temporary power to the machine using my internal system but it will not last long." I didn't need it to last long; I just needed the gun pointed in the right direction. I told him to get it done and a few seconds later, the turret began to move once more.

"I want that building in ruins," I instructed. Pre-fab buildings weren't known for their structural integrity. They were meant to be transported easily, built quickly, and withstand the elements. Heavy bolter rounds, however, tore through it like a gaunt through a paper bag. The bolters swept from left to right, tearing the walls apart and knocking out the support columns. Soon the building was no longer capable of supporting the weight of the upper floors and the whole unit collapsed inwards. If there were any Eldar in that building when it fell, they weren't in the mood to keep us pinned down. It bought us the time we needed and gave Zalanskos the freedom he needed to head around to the front of the chimera so he could directly access the engine compartment. He was jury-rigging some sort of device that appeared to be made out of parts from a lasgun and other unidentified do-dads. None of us asked what he was doing exactly but he mentioned he was providing a new power source for the rites of ignition. According to the tech-priest, it would allow us to start the vehicle again but we wouldn't have any of the electronic support systems online and if we turned off the engine, we would be stuck again.

"Begin the ignition!" the tech-priest shouted to the driver inside. There was a bright flash from Zalanskos' newly-fashioned device and it caught fire a few moments later but it did what he had promised and the engine was roaring back to life.

"Everybody back inside!" McTam shouted as she waved us in. It was just in time too as the surviving Eldars began firing from a new position in a neighbouring building. The driver didn't wait for all of us to get inside before hitting the gas but we all managed to climb aboard. Shuriken fire rattled against the chimera and as the rear door began to close, a heavy burst of shuriken fire hit the closing door. The angle of impact deflected all of the enemy rounds straight into the passenger compartment. Cursing and yelps of pain echoed through the vehicle as the shuriken rounds bounced around in the interior, cutting and shredding anything caught in their path. Everybody in the vehicle got hit at least once and I got hit three times - twice in my left leg and once in my right arm. The ones to my leg were glancing hits; they stung but I would be able to run and fight. The one to my arm, however, tore through my upper arm and made it extremely painful and difficult to raise my arm. The medic, though winged in the thigh himself, immediately sprang to work patching up a nearby wounded private who had just lost two of his fingers to a stray round.

"Everybody okay?" I called out after examining the extent of my injuries. There was a series of grumbled acknowledgments but I noticed immediately that I didn't hear McTam's voice. She had been the last to enter and I noticed her leaning up against the side wall. "Corporal, you alive?" I asked as I grabbed her by the shoulder. Her body immediately collapsed into my arms. McTam had been hit only once but by the cruellest of fortunes, that one shot was right in the back of the head. It was barely even noticeable – a bloody line about an inch long concealed by tufts of hair. But there was no exit wound, which meant the shuriken bounced around the inside of her skull and turned her brain in a bloody porridge.

"Those frakking xenos!" One trooper stated so eloquently.

It was a sombre drive to the communication spire. Aside from the occasional grunt of pain as the medic moved from soldier to soldier, there was hardly a whisper from anyone inside the chimera. Death was commonplace in the Imperial Guard and everybody knows that the person standing next to you could be gone at any moment but even knowing that fact didn't always take the edge off; especially when the soldier's lifeless body was set down in the seat next to you. I had trouble taking my eyes off of her for some reason, perhaps because she was roughly the same age as me. She had joined the guard as soon as she could and joined the 597th during the latest batch of replacements; she earned a promotion during the liberation of Magnus Viridis and was described as having a natural flare for leadership. Her lieutenant said she probably could have become an officer in time, maybe even a company commander. Instead she would be sent back to Valhalla in a small metal box all because a door didn't close fast enough.

The silence was eventually broken when the driver informed me that we were almost at the spire. I told everybody to get ready to disembark and I headed to the turret to take a look. In the distance ahead I could see the battle raging on – it wasn't a sizable Eldar force attacking but they had the defenders outnumbered and at a major disadvantage. The Eldar forces had established their base of fire in a nearby building but their transports were flying rings around the base of the spire, blasting away at the defenders who had very little cover on their flanks. Judging by the scattered bodies outside the spire, the techguards had been pushed back into the tower and were fighting from a lobby section that extended out from the spire's main structure. Once we were a few blocks shy of our destination, I ordered the chimera to stop and we all climbed out, save for Zalanskos.

"We're going to continue on foot," I explained. "The tech-priest is going to find someplace to hide the chimera until we call him in." With two Eldar vehicles circling the spire, one of them would find our chimera if we drove right up to the spire and the last thing I wanted was our ride out of here getting blown up. Running was going to aggravate my injured leg but I wasn't about to complain openly, not when everyone else in the squad was not letting their injuries stand in their way. Even our eight-fingered trooper was eager to get back into the fight. Once again I alerted the defenders of our approach and after the Eldar transport made its pass, we dashed across the open streets to the spire.

Though we were only a handful of troops, Captain Drusus was glad to see us when we arrived. The giant of a techguard was the only person not readily standing behind cover. He held his ground near the front of the lobby, a heavy bolter strapped onto one of his arms laying down a barrage on anything that moved. The enemy weapons broke against his armour like water on rocks and only when the heavy weapons of the vehicles came into view was he forced to take cover briefly.

The situation in the lobby was eerily reminiscent of the situation when I first came across the chimera. The Eldar were well-entrenched in their position but were reluctant to try and advance on the defender's position. I was surprised they weren't making stronger use of their vehicles. It was almost as if they were keeping us contained. It couldn't have been a coincidence and it left me scrambling for answers.

"I'm hoping you brought a little bit more than just the lot of you," Drusus said as our squad took cover in the lobby wreckage.

"How about a rocket launcher and a chimera?" I replied and pointed to the trooper who carried the aforementioned heavy weapon. "Our chimera is close by and waiting for our call. Just point me to the VIPs and we can get them out of here."

"They're all that way," Drusus replied, pointing directly up. "They're still up in the main conference room. I'll vox them and tell them to get down here." I breathed a slight sigh of relief that we had arrived before anything terrible had happened. However, just as things were starting to look up, fate decided to take a shit in my porridge. "Strange…I'm not getting a response," Drusus said after a moment.

"Oh frak!" I cursed so loudly I'm certain everybody in the tower heard me. The realization had crashed upon me like an Astartes drop pod. "This is just another distraction!"

"Come again?"

"Those frakkers out there are just keeping you occupied while another team is up above killing everybody," I explained as I headed for the main lift (the spire was over twenty stories high, I wasn't taking the stairs). I motioned for a few of the Valhallans to follow me.

"Impossible," Drusus replied. "There's only one way up and nobody has made it past us."

"Trust me," I said as I stepped onto the lift, "they found another way."

Taking the lift was probably not the best move since anybody above would see us coming a mile away but the stairs would take too long and leave us winded by the time we reached the top. Given the choices, I was willing to take my chances with the lift. "How are you so certain this is a distraction?" one of the younger troopers asked me.

"Because that's what Eldar do – they distract you with the obvious and hit you where you're unprepared," I explained. "They're trying to cut off the head of this entire operation. I just hope Cain wasn't caught off-guard." We were quickly growing furiously impatient as we waited for the elevator to ascend, all while listening to a horrible rendition of Tchaikasky's masterpiece, 'The Emperor's Ascension.' If the composer could hear how they were brutalising his music, he would spin fast enough to set himself on fire.

"Are we there yet?" somebody asked, followed by an 'ow' when the soldier next to him punched him in the arm. As we neared our destination, the troopers behind me did a quick weapons check, as did I. With my right arm injured, I had to keep my laspistol in my left. I was a superb marksman firing with either hand but my right had always been slightly better and in the close quarters of these halls, I was uneasy not having a free hand if I needed to draw my shock maul in a hurry.

"Get ready," I said as the lift came to a halt. We all braced ourselves but when the doors parted, we discovered a silent hallway. Unfortunately, it was silent because the half-dozen combat servitors that had been left on guard were now scattered across the length of the hallway in many tiny pieces. It was a bad sign and we hurried on our way to the main conference room. We could soon hear the faint sound of a chainsword and our spirits lifted – it had to be Cain.

When we tracked down the source it was just as I had hoped. There was Cain, standing alone against the enemy with chainsword in hand. Around him were the bodies of more fallen combat servitors but what surprised me the most, however, was that there were no Eldar bodies; in fact, there was only one Eldar present and he was engaged in a chainsword duel with both Commissar Cain and Colonel Kasteen. The Eldar was no ordinary warrior – the body count alone attested to that. His eloquent white and green armour shimmered under the glow of the overhanging luminators, his elongated helm was peaked with a vibrant red plume, and his armour expanded greatly around the upper back and shoulders, as though he had some sort of backpack unit integrated into his armour. Whoever he was, his chainsword was as large as Cain's and he wielded it with similar proficiency. At first I thought it might have been him but it took only a moment to realize that this was an entirely different Eldar. Though helmeted, the malice of his gaze was palpable and he carried himself with the aggressiveness of a seasoned killer (as opposed to Kael, who always moved with calm, calculated grace and precision).

The Eldar warrior lashed back and forth between Kasteen and Cain. Kasteen's swings were barely hitting close and the Eldar was able to dance around them with ease. I mean absolutely no disrespect to the colonel but she was actually getting in Cain's way more than helping him, as the Eldar often used Kasteen as a buffer between him and the commissar. It was the same reason I rarely helped Cain in his fights back then – I couldn't keep up with him level of skill.

"Colonel!" one of our soldiers stupidly shouted, drawing everyone's attention to us. The Eldar pounced on that momentary distraction, swooping under Kasteen's blade before knocking back Cain's. The Eldar then spun about, smashing his chainsword into Kasteen's with such force that it sent it flying from her hand. The double-barrelled shuriken pistol he held in his free hand fired a burst, hitting Kasteen in the shoulder and upper chest, shredding flesh and bone with its razor-sharp projectiles. Then, using the flat side of his chainsword, the Eldar hooked onto Kasteen and pulled her around so that she was now between him and us.

"It appears that our time is at an end mon'keigh," the Eldar spoke as he kept the teeth of his blade close to Kasteen's neck. "I must admit, I have enjoyed our little dance. I rarely get the chance to fight an opponent who doesn't die in the first five seconds."

"Wherever you run Eldar, we'll find you," Cain said as he kept his laspistol aimed at his opponent. For a moment I wondered if Cain would try to take the shot. Perhaps if he were facing a human he would but an Eldar's reaction speed would ensure Kasteen's death if Cain pulled the trigger. He wouldn't risk her life like that.

"Short-sighted as always, mon'keigh. How do you hope to find me when you cannot even see the obvious truth?" the Eldar laughed boastfully. "You're obstinate leaders were warned and they have refused to listen. So now they have paid in blood. I suggest you take my advice and leave…while I am still feeling merciful. Otherwise you shall join that fool Aureus in oblivion. The Hounds of Erebus shall not rise again!" With that, the Eldar shoved Kasteen towards Cain. The moment the Colonel was clear we opened fire but even that was too late – the Eldar vanished in a blink of light.

"The Magos…" Kasteen grunted, as she stepped back from Cain's support. He knew what she meant and he rushed to the door that he had been defending. The medic I brought along rushed to Kasteen's side while I followed after Cain. He must have kept the Magos locked away in the conference room but if the Eldar have been using teleporters then everything he did could have been for nought.

As the door opened, a handful of Eldar warriors wearing the same wide-shouldered armour blinked out of sight. Blood stained the walls and bodies were strewn across the floor and broken furniture. And lying dead in a pool of blood and oil on the conference table was Magos Aureus. We were too late…


	4. FOUR

**FOUR**

So after one skewered Magos, two razed garages, five dead guardsmen, six deceased Administratum adepts, seven dismembered tech-priests, eighteen scrapped vehicles, twenty-eight fallen tech-guards, forty-two destroyed combat servitors, and several dozen slaughtered civilians, our presence on the planet was no longer being greeted with the utmost of confidence from the citizens of the planet.

And we hadn't even been on the planet for a full day. Not a stellar start by even our meagre standards.

The aftermath of the incident left our forces in a fury. Suffice to say, the men and women of the Valhallan 597th were not willing to sit idly by and let this unprovoked assault go unanswered. However, Cain and Broklaw both knew that charging out guns blazing was only going to be met with failure. There's an old saying in the Imperial Navy, 'you're better off trying to catch starlight than you are bringing Eldar to battle.' If our forces had charged out in pursuit of the Eldar, we would have either A) never found them; or B) walked into an ambush that would've made the Drop Site Massacre seem like a fair fight. But to do nothing would be to invite despair and uncertainty amongst the rank and file as well as the within the Adeptus Mechanicus. Our next move would have to be taken with great care and consideration. With great zeal, haste, and decisiveness, the Valhallan 597th jumped into action…and called an emergency meeting. We opted to keep 'bloody retribution' as an open-ended option to be discussed at a later time. For obvious security reasons, we decided to have the meeting back at field headquarters where we would at least be better prepared should Eldar decide to rain from the sky again. Despite a medic's insistence that I get my arm properly treated, I attended the meeting, which contained the regiment's senior officers and members from the Adeptus Mechanicus. Or at least the Adeptus Mechanicus had been invited and were expected to attend. When I arrived there were only the Valhallan officers and Cain present. Also notably absent was the regiment's commanding officer.

Colonel Kasteen's injuries weren't serious but they were severe enough to keep her out of action for the next week or so. She had taken several hits to the chest and arm and by the Emperor's divinity did she manage to escape without a severed artery. Taking her place at the helm of the 597th was Major Broklaw and like everyone else in the regiment, he saw the Colonel's injuries as a personal affront and vowed to make the Eldar pay in kind. The Eldar were on my mind as well though for entirely different reasons – I was trying to make sense of it all. An upfront attack seemed uncharacteristic for Kael and the wraithlord had seemed very intent on pounding me into a bloody pulp. It didn't fit with Kael's preferred methodology, nor did the threats made by the Eldar who had duelled with Cain. But on the other hand, Eldar were a capricious race so I couldn't discount the possibility.

Precisely one minute before the start of the meeting Broklaw spoke up "Okay, everybody take a seat, time check in 20 seconds. It will be 0819 exactly." Complete silence followed by "In 5, 3, 2,1 mark; 0819. I'll be frakked if we're going to wait for the Adeptus Mechanicus to arrive." It was…odd to see him standing at the head of the table without the colonel nearby but I had every bit of confidence in his ability to take command. The meeting room was still being set up and throughout our discussions there were grunts and techpriests running back and forth with boxes, cables, and various electronic equipment. Unfortunately, there was no holographic interface to make use of so we were all sitting around a drab wooden table. Being on a forge world would normally mean access to better equipment had our allies not blown all of it up before our arrival. "Now as you are all aware of, Colonel Kasteen was injured in the Eldar assault on the Mechanicus facility and I have assumed command in her absence. However, thanks to Commissar Cain this will only be a temporary situation." Indeed had Cain not been present in the top floor of the command spire when the Eldar warrior struck, Broklaw would probably have had to assume Kasteen's responsibilities permanently. When I first thought about it, I wondered why Cain was so far away from the battle but I soon realized that if I had been able to piece together the Eldar's plan, then Cain would have been able to see it coming a mile away. It's just like him to charge off on his own rather than taking people with him and weakening the outer defences based solely on a hunch. Since Cain probably would have beaten the Eldar had I not interrupted him, I decided to not make any mention of my own presence in the spire. Nobody asked where I was, so I wasn't technically lying about anything.

"Saving one life out of a dozen is hardly worthy of praise," Cain modestly replied. "The death of Magos Aureus threatens to derail the entire project, which we can all assume is the Eldar's main objective."

"Wherever they're hiding, we shall drag them out into the Emperor's light and we shall make them pay," Broklaw continued. "Because of our mission, we're stuck on the defensive but as the saying goes, often the best defence is a good offence. If we sit and wait here, the Eldar will whittle down our defensive with these hit-and-runs until we're shooting at shadows and chasing ghosts. We need to take the fight to the Eldar as soon as possible and that means we need to find where their operating."

"With all due respect Major," I spoke up reluctantly, not wanting to contradict Ruput in front of the officers, "we're surrounded by about a hundred city blocks' worth of rubble and ruin not to mention a thousand miles of undercity tunnels, which are probably in just as bad shape as the surface. How exactly are we going to find the Eldar?"

"A valid concern Commissar Abel," Broklaw answered, thankfully sounding unperturbed by my questioning. Before he could answer, though, the door to the meeting room opened and the gargantuan techguard captain entered, followed shortly afterwards by Anargyros and Zalanskos.

"You?" I remarked when I saw the scrawny little ordinate. "I thought you were killed along with Aureus."

"What? Oh…th-that," he stammered in response. "I…um, I hid underneath one of the…uh, bodies…" Not exactly stalwart behaviour but we never expect civilians to do anything other than scream and panic. If anything, we prefer when they get down and stay out sight. Most moral guardsmen are reluctant to try and fire through a mob of citizens while our opponents rarely demonstrate the same degree of restraint. The sentiment was probably not shared by many others sitting at the table but at the time, I was grateful to see him still alive. He knew more about the project than the Magos did. Keeping the operation on track would have been difficult if not borderline impossible without his knowledge.

"And why is he here?" I continued, pointing to Zalanskos.

"Good question," replied the techpriest who, not surprisingly, did not sound thrilled to have been dragged to the meeting. "Why am I here?"

"Well," the ordinate began, "Major Broklaw requested that the senior techpriest in charge of the operation to be present at this meeting. Normally that would have been Aureus but he is, erm…deceased. With Gallos, York, Karrot, and Plumbic dead as well then the techpriest with the most knowledge, experience, and seniority would be…ahem, you, Tech-priest Zalanskos."

"I'm in charge of this clusterfrak?" Zalanskos replied, using a mechadendrite to point to himself rather than his actual hand. I got the impression that withholding the information was the only way to get Zalanskos to commit to the meeting. The techpriest probably would have left too had the techguard captain not forced him down into a chair. "Why the frak do you people need me anyways?"

"Because we need information tech-priest," Broklaw insisted. As far as first impressions go, the complacent attitude of a tech-priest in such an important meeting ranked just above that of a dung beetle. "The Eldar are targeting this area and we need to know what it is they're after. What makes this foundry so special?"

Not surprising, to me at least, Zalanskos shrugged his shoulders. I doubt he paid much attention to anything outside of his own little world and the projects he was more directly involved with. "I maintained and organized the servitors and machines used for digging. I have no interest in what they dug up. This foundry was no different than the dozens of others on this planet. Oh wait…" he paused suddenly, drudging up memories that seemed to have eluded him thus far. "We were working on some new designs with plasma technology. Part of the reason the navy bombed the foundry was to keep it out of the rebel's hands."

Broklaw digested the information but eventually shook his head. Cain held a similar expression of uncertainty that mirrored my own sense of scepticism. "Seems unlikely for Eldar to go to such lengths over plasma weapons," Cain finally said. "The Eldar I fought against mentioned something about the Hounds of Erebus. Does that ring any bells for any of you?"

Drusus was quick to shake his head, followed shortly thereafter by an indifferent shrug from Zalanskos. Anargyros was the only one who seemed to have anything to say in response to the question. "I believe I had come across the term once before somewhere in the old records of the planet. I will attempt to locate the scrolls but the recent civil war will make this a difficult, in not utterly futile. However, I will task my best archivists to the matter and will get back to you if we succeed in finding the relevant documents." The ordinate made a quick note in a dataslate that he carried with him, which he had somehow pulled from the depths of his robes and returned in an equally mysterious fashion.

Since there was little that needed to be said to bring the new arrivals up to speed, Broklaw was able to return to the previous topic. To summarize , Broklaw's plan was to send the bulk of our forces over to the excavation site to supplement the techguard forces. It was a bold, albeit risky move because it left our field headquarters with only one company for protection (in addition to the logistics and command company staffing the actual headquarters) but the field headquarters had a much smaller perimeter to protect. Even with four companies, stretching our forces around such an extended perimeter was going to leave as many holes as your drawers stretched over the front-end of a chimera. Once in position we would send out reconnoissance patrols to sniff out the enemy positions, either by finding clues to their presence or by luring them out. That little wrinkle meant that his plan had a low probability of succeeding because, as I had mentioned, there was far too much debris to perform an effective search. Patrols could search through a normal industrial region until the end of time and never turn up an Eldar. So finding clues or the Eldar ranked right up there with the chances of finding a sober guardsman in a distillery. The paper map Broklaw was using to explain the plan made the task look difficult and daunting. But I would like to point out that his map was made before the planet had been bombed back to the Feudal age.

"I've also sent a request to the Imperial Guard regiment stationed in the nearby Lethe territory for additional support," Broklaw said. "They've reported unusual sightings on patrols but have yet to make any confirmation of an Eldar presence."

"And how will our patrols have any success in this mess?" Captain Sulla asked.

"Skull probes," Broklaw answered with a smirk before turning to Zalanskos. "I assume that your people have some to bolster our own numbers."

"Do we have skull probes?" Zalanskos replied with unrestrained sarcasm. "What kind of a primitive circus would we be running if we didn't have skull probes? If there is one good thing that has come from the civil war, it's that we've got a surplus of skulls. We're tripping over skulls in our storehouses. Take as many as you need – a dozen, a hundred…however many you need to get your job finished."

"Scores will be needed," Drusus commented suddenly. "I used to use skull probes to supplement my patrols but they began disappearing in unsettling numbers. We suspected looters, ruffians, or leftover rebels were using them for target practice but with the Eldar in the picture, it is far more likely that they are responsible for the disappearances." This new information immediately caught everybody's attention since it added another clue to our paltry pile. Broklaw was first to ask the question that had popped to my mind (and likely everyone else's), inquiring if they knew where their skull probes went missing. If there was one thing you could count on from the Administratum, it was to keep records of the most trivial and pointless of details, including the last known location of almost two hundred and twenty lost skull probes over the past eighteen months.

Producing yet another dataslate from the depths of his robes, which left me seriously wondering where he stashed them, Anargyros began transcribing the data from his dataslate onto our map in the form of convenient little red dots. After a few dozen were produced, we began seeing a pattern forming on the map. Though the dots were generally across the whole field, there were growing concentrations within several distinct areas of the map. When it was finished, it was plainly obvious that the distribution of dots was anything but random.

"And these are where we'll start looking," Broklaw said a bit unnecessarily. The Valhallans began lobbing back and forth suggestions, details, and the usual assortment of officers volunteer to tackle these tasks personally. No surprise Sulla was eager, bordering on fanatically driven, to lead a team to investigate the densest collection of red dots. Captain Drusus was also eager to participate; he was quite angry over his failure to protect the Magos and sought redemption. Or at least that's what it had appeared to be. It took me a few moments to realize that Cain was still staring at the map, an inquisitive look upon his face and a hand scratching at his chin.

"I know that face – that's your 'something's wrong with this picture' face," I commented, which surprisingly silenced most of the chatter around the table. Once again his eye had caught something that the rest of us had casually overlooked. Even when I knew that he saw something amiss, I could not pinpoint what exactly he was looking at until he tapped a blank area on the map.

"There're no dots here," he said plainly. My first instinct was to make a sarcastic quip about how he stated something that could only be more painfully obvious if it had been nailed to our forehead but I managed to keep that thought to myself. His train of thought had to be going somewhere.

However, while the Valhallans were polite enough to hold their tongue, the Adeptus Mechanicus was under no such edict to grant him such respect. "That's because there's nothing there but a big pile of rocks and toxic waste you simpleton," Zalanskos said. "Read the label! It was a chemical waste facility and thanks to the war it's now been turned into a radioactive swimming pool. It's great if you want to kick back, grab a cocktail, and absorb some rads! Hiding would be tricky since you'd develop a pleasant green fluorescence after a few days."

Oddly enough, I was almost inclined to agree with the raving misanthrope. There were a lot better hidings places that didn't involve hazardous waste material. Perhaps if it were a last ditch option I would consider it but the blasted cityscape provided enough hiding places to hide a whole armoured column. Cain, however, was not convinced and that was the only reason I still sided with him. His gut instincts had a better track record than all the regiment's intelligence officers put together. "I still would feel more comfortable if I took a team down there and investigated it personally," Cain said. As usual, Cain appeared to be volunteering for the riskier assignment – unlike the hot spots, the peculiar empty area was only accessible on foot and a significant distance from the base. It would take him most of the day just to reach his destination and were his instincts to prove correct, he could be easily encircled and help would not be able to reach him. On the other hand, if he were mistaken then he would waste an entire day just walking through ruins while the rest of us played 'fowl hunt' with Eldar sharpshooters. I was half-tempted to ask if I could tag along.

The rest of the meeting consisted of the usual military chest-pounding, jargon lobbing, and repetitive blabber that would bore an archivist to death and I shall spare you the boring details. I found Zalanskos to be surprisingly cooperative about surrendering all security matters over to Broklaw, which was a nice change of pace, until I realized that the tech-priest simply didn't give a damn. This whole operation was, from what I could tell, beneath a person of his stature. In fact, he said unless the plasma generators were going to explode, we should direct all our reports and inquiries to either Anargyros or Drusus. Broklaw didn't have an issue with that either as he was quickly discovering the joys that I had when it came to dealing with that particular tech-priest. Shots would probably have been fired had Zalanskos stayed any longer and despite voicing his absolute confidence in us, he still made a dozen or so remarks warning us 'not to blow this place to the void.' Or at least I think it was something along those lines. I don't recall a great deal of the later half of the meeting because I was in pain, tired and thus didn't much attention to what was being said. As Broklaw and Cain were the only ones who ever said anything important, I developed early in my career a kind of selective hearing, filtering out the banter of the junior officers while retaining the important remarks and decisions of the seniors. It is a skill that I got away with it because few ever noticed that I was even in the room, let alone paying any attention to what they're saying.

"You awake Abel?" Cain suddenly spoke up, tapping me on the shoulder and jostling me out of my mental coma. I had zoned out while Sulla droned on about how we should do something to the Eldar involving the Emperor's wrath and fishsticks. I'm fairly certain that I misheard her. It could have been that I was hungry for seafood at the time. I did my best to act as though I had been deep in thought but failed to convince him that I was even ankle-deep in it. Everybody else in the room had already left and I had been staring at the map for, according to him, several minutes. I insisted otherwise and made the excuse that I had been deciding which recon force I would participate in. One of the main reasons I tend to be so honest is because the universe seems to fling my lies back into my face with a bonus 'frak you' warhead strapped to it. "Excellent, glad to hear you're so eager to get onto the field," he said. "I was actually hoping you would join us. In fact, I have a very important assignment that I feel that you would be instrumental in its success."

"That was fast, if not too fast," I remarked.

"That's why I get to make the speeches in this regiment," he joked. "Nonetheless, during the briefing I was promptly reminded of your excellent performance during the initial landing in the liberation of Magnus Viridis."

Personally, I wouldn't have used the words 'excellent performance' to have described that debacle. The whole ordeal started with me slipping down the shuttle ramp, nearly getting vaporized by a Tau battlesuit, getting blown off a tank, and almost eaten by an alien dinosaur. The only thing that could be described as excellent would be my fortune in managing to survive the battle and 'sheer dumb luck' is not a marketable skill. However, I did have a biased and overly-critical opinion of my performance so it was possible that he saw something I had overlooked or was too busy fighting for my life to have seen at the time. "That would require a very broad definition of the term 'excellent,' sir…and 'performance.'"

"Don't be so modest," he insisted as he led me out of the meeting room. "You're guile and resourcefulness were instrumental in the success of that landing and in the subsequent battle for the space port. I need those assets once again."

"You can count on me sir," I said, trying to hide my swelling pride.

"Good…I'll need you to go with Captain Sulla again."

"Yessi-wait, what?"

"You did a marvellous job keeping her zeal in check. I need you to do whatever it is you did back on Magnus Viridis."

"I grabbed her by the ponytail," I said flatly and wholly unenthused.

"If that's what it takes to keep her from charging into an Eldar ambush then go for it," he said as he patted me on the back as if to reassure me. "We depart in a couple of hours so try to get some rest and then meet us in the staging area."

"And so it begins," I muttered to myself. I was about to remark that my day couldn't get any worse but I knew damn well if I so much as uttered that statement, the ceiling would collapse in the universe's rush to squish me. Unfortunately, as it turned out even thinking that was enough to incur its wrath.

* * *

The prospect of having to play leash-holder for Captain 'head-first into the firestorm' Sulla was an unsettling one to say the least. The last time I had to play that role I was nearly killed (on multiple occasions) and spent a great deal of time just keeping her in one place. She had good tactical skills but when she saw the enemy, her brain just seemed to switch off and she charges right in. Granted, she was trusted and respected by those under her command and both Broklaw and Kasteen held favourable opinions of her but that didn't stop her from being a safety hazard for anybody standing around her. On Magnus Viridis, she got two whole squads cut down because she decided that a straight line would be the most effective means of assaulting a fixed position regardless of the fact that it took them out of the trenches. She captured the position but the only other survivor from the assault was Private Reiner, whom Cain had to reprimand for 'failing to follow the lead of a superior officer' as he had taken the longer route and remained in the trench. I would have given him an accommodation for being the only person in the squad who used their brain. But that's why I'm not allowed to dole out medals – I make a distinction between pants-on-backwards idiocy and real courage.

Still, I could understand where Cain's concerns stemmed from. Sulla was exactly the kind of opponent that an Eldar would favour – all too willing to jump into a fight regardless of the conditions. Without one of us to keep her in check, she could very well lead her column straight into the proverbial meat grinder. As I meandered back to my billet for a quick recaf boost, I wondered why Cain had chosen me rather than take the task on personally. There was no shortage of danger or glory escorting Sulla through a battlefield but then I wondered if, perhaps, Cain's very reputation would have done more harm than good. Emperor knows I tried my hardest when Cain was around. Sulla probably did the same, which meant she'd be even more gung-ho than usual. Perhaps a commissar she didn't admire was a more tactical choice. Once again I found myself humbled by Cain's superior abilities of leadership and personnel-management. With that in mind, I had no choice but to keep a leash on Sulla for the good of the mission. Like any dutiful Kriegan, I had a responsibility to my mission regardless of the risks involved. Thankfully, there were no dinosaurs to deal with on Erebus.

Watz and Heilmit had done a superb job of securing me a comfortable place to stay while on Erebus. A neighbouring building belonging to the Administratum provided both proximity and comfort. Old Administratum buildings are a favourite amongst guardsmen as they're often spacious and the adepts do not skimp the expenses when it comes to comfort. Unlike most of the quarters on base that once belonged to tech-priests, the rooms in the Administratum building were used by people who didn't have steel-plated arses or titanium spines and actually slept from time to time. As I proceeded to my new quarters, I caught wind of Jurgen's characteristic odour. Cain had procured a room in the same building, as did Colonel Kasteen. Broklaw, citing a need for security (and not having the entire command staff wiped out by one unfortunately misplaced bomb) made his quarters in the main command center and had been fortunate enough to get a room larger than a bathroom stall. My room had the usual assortment of features any self-respecting citizen would have along with a few luxuries. For starters, it had an in-suite washroom complete with shower and tub, which Heilmit had spent most of the afternoon restoring the water pressure. It also had its own recaf machine, which immediately made my room the envy of the entire floor and required Watz to fight off other aides trying to curry their superior's favour.

Though the outlook for the rest of my day (or night. I wasn't fully aware of the time and Erebus had seventy-hour days during the summer months) was grim, I at least could look forward to a hot cup of recaf when I reached my room. As I opened the door, I was met with the enticing arouma of a freshly made pot of recaf. "Thanks for putting the pot on guys," I said aloud as I shut the door behind me.

"I thought it might be prudent," replied a voice that belonged to neither of my aides. In fact, it sounded all too familiar…

"Kael?" I replied without even thinking. As if taking my words for a summoning, the Eldar stepped out into view from the bedroom. And he looked almost exactly the same as the last time we had met – the same neatly drawn-back platinum hair, the smug little smirk across his lips, the green cloak that hung so loosely from his figure, and even the custom long-las that was slung across his back. The only few differences that remained came from the fact that he was no longer hiding his alien nature as he had his Eldritch blade sheathed at his side and beneath his cloak were robes adorned with runes and icons of the Eldar people. However, what I noticed first and foremost was what he held in his hands: my prized bathrobe.

"So good to see you again Miss Abel," he said in an oddly cheerful manner. "I must admit, I never pictured you as one for wearing pink."

"You son of a-" I reached for my laspistol but both my words and action were interrupted when something struck me in the back of the head. Before I could even get my ire up, I was face down on the floor. The strike hadn't knocked me out but it made a compelling argument for staying put.

"I thought I told you to be gentle Iamanu," Kael said after a drawn-out sigh. He tossed my bathrobe aside just as my assailant stepped into view. It was an Eldar warrior, wearing the same wide, sloped armour as the ones who had assassinated Aureus and his associates. One striking difference, however, was that this particular Eldar's armour was blue and yellow, as opposed to the white and green of the earlier ones.

The other Eldar appeared dismissive of the criticism. "I was," he insisted before looking down at me. "And they call us fragile." The second Eldar walked over to one of the living room chairs and took a seat while Kael offered a hand to me. Stubbornly, I got up under my own power and then straightened my hat and coat out of stern defiance (to what ends I still don't know but I wasn't going to look like a fool in front of him). The Eldar in the chair kept a watchful eye on me, his deathspinner resting eagerly in his hands. I didn't need to be a psyker to know that if I tried to reach for my gun again, I would get to experience first-hand the joy of being turned into bloody confetti.

"I apologize for my friend's behaviour," Kael said as he motioned for me to follow him to the kitchenette area. "I believe there is a human saying about old dogs and new tricks. Not that Iamanu needs to learn any new tricks…he's practically learned them all by now. We've been friends since we were youths but while I dabbled in the arts, he preferred to express his inner self with guns and violence." He stopped at the recaf machine, grabbing a mug and filling it up with the aromatic brown elixir. "Here, I made it while I was waiting for you," he said as he handed it to me. Despite my initial reluctance, my addiction to the elixir of life overpowered my usual cautions. I figured if he was trying to kill me, there were easier ways to poisoning my drink. And truth be told, he actually made a good cup of recaf.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, cutting straight to the point.

"What does it look like? I'm stopping by to say hello to an old friend…and I'm doing well. Thanks for asking." Unlike most of our previous encounters, I was mentally prepared for him having ulterior motives. I knew it couldn't be as simple as a friendly hello but I also knew that he would be aware of my suspicions. Even a simple conversation with him was a battle of wits, trying to pin him down to an answer, peeling away the lies and half-truths, reading between lines so narrow you'd need to microscope just to decipher, and all while trying to conceal what I knew, which isn't easy when you're dealing with a psyker. I watched him closely even as I sipped on my recaf, wondering what kind of idiot he took me for, but he did little more than just pour a cup for himself. His eyes met mine briefly and his smirk disappeared, "No, I do not take you for an idiot."

Were another Eldar not waiting for an excuse to shoot me, I would've smacked Kael for reading my thoughts like that. All I could do was play along with whatever game he was up to. "Then why are you on Erebus?"

"A terrible darkness is coming for you Miss Abel."

"I know…it tried to step on me a few hours ago," I replied sarcastically.

"That is not what I meant and you know it," Kael said harshly. It appeared that he was no longer in a joking mood. "I have spent many days delving into the yawning abyss of time. I have tweezed apart the threads of your fate and seen the paths that they lead to, peering into your past and your future."

"I'd be flattered if that didn't sound a little creepy. Why so interested in me?"

"Because a great destiny awaits you…but you stand at a crossroad Miss Abel. You will have to walk a fine line between salvation and damnation but if you succeed…untold billions will be saved."

It's not every day that somebody told you that your future involved saving countless billions but even ignoring the source of this news, it was difficult to grasp and even harder to believe. "Listen Kael, even if I did believe in all your fate nonsense that doesn't explain why your people tried to kill me if you say I'm so damn important."

"She thinks we're with…oh brilliant choice Kyriese!" the Eldar warrior suddenly shouted. Judging by his sarcasm and impatience, he was even more sceptical than I was. "This mon'keigh is as ignorant as the rest of them. We are wasting our time here."

"Were you and I so different when we were young? If I recall correctly you once thought humans reproduced by budding." Kael replied, remaining remarkably patient despite the apparent insubordination. Surprisingly, this silenced the warrior quickly save for a few disgruntled mutters as he leaned back in his chair. "Contrary to what you might think and what others will tell, I am not your enemy here Miss Abel. The others…well, Junayd will not see reason. He is locked into his path and there is nothing any of us can do." I could detect the faint hint of sadness in his tone. The thought of having to stand against his own kind was likely not a pleasant one for him. But for whatever reason, whatever he saw in me, he felt it was more important than his sense of loyalty. "I cannot do anything to help you against my kin. I will not partake in the death of my fellow Eldar. They…you will have to stand on your against them. It pains me that I cannot ask for you to show them leniency for they will kill you without a second thought…and your life outweighs theirs." I had no intention of showing any mercy to anybody trying to kill me so what he said meant little to me. Unfortunately, had I paid more attention perhaps I would've realized the gravity of what he meant.

"So…wait, I'm confused. If you're not here to help against the other Eldar then…who are you worried about?"

"Something else. Something worse."

"And you're not going to tell me, are you?" I said with a disappointed groan.

"Manipulating fate is a delicate task. Push too hard and you overshoot your target, push too little and it falls short. I can only intervene as much as I feel it is safe to do so…otherwise I will put you in terrible danger before you are ready to stand against it." Somehow, I was afraid he was going to say something along those lines. Despite everything Kael and I had been through together, I could never get past how aggravating his 'I cannot tell you now' nature could be. Often, I had no choice but to put my trust in what he said but on Erebus I could trust him only about as far as I could throw him. He told me of foreboding dangers but gave me little to prepare for them; he told me he did not stand with the other Eldar, equally he would not lift a finger against them. I had no reason to believe a word he said. And in his usual fashion, Kael answered my question before I even uttered it. "I'm afraid there is nothing I can give you at this time to convince you to believe me. That is something you must do of your own volition when the time comes. All I can do is give you these words, knowing that in time you will look back to them and you will see the truth."

"Oh lucky me," I sighed.

"Fate is never an easy burden to carry, believe me. But your sense of duty will keep you going and your curiosity will let you see the things that others will overlook." Kael finished off the rest of his recaf and sighed contently. His mood seemed to elevate now that he was finished with all grim discussions of the future. How he switched from mood to mood so quickly I will never understand but I suspect it is another quirk I can simply chalk up to him being an Eldar. He motioned for the Eldar in the chair to follow him as he headed for the exit. However, Kael stopped short and reached into his cloak. "I almost forgot, when you see Miss Vail, I want you to give her this as well as my regards." He pulled something from the depths of his cloak and tossed it over to me. It was about the size of the palm of my hand so I instinctively caught it when it was thrown to me. It appeared to be a component belonging to a larger device and judging by the large lens, it looked as though it had once belonged to a helmet or some sort of ocular device. Whatever it came from, I doubt it was in very good condition as I noticed thin, clean cuts in the metal housing that looked to have been left behind by shuriken fire. What it was and what it meant was a mystery to me and I knew there was no point in asking Kael about it since he added that Miss Vail would know what it meant when she saw it. It looked harmless enough so I eventually decided I would carry out this little request and, to be honest, I was curious as to its significance. All I had to do was keep an eye for this Vail woman. Of course, little did I realize that she would be coming to me all too soon.


	5. FIVE

**FIVE**

If I had any hopes of getting a few hours of rest to clear my head, those hopes were not only dashed but pummelled, skinned, fed through a grinder, grilled, and then tossed to a pack of Kamagrian wolves while its pelt was turned into a fashionable area rug. My mind wandered like a malfunctioning skull probe as I sat in my room, sipping my recaf. As I had mentioned before, everything Kael said was to be taken with extreme caution. It was more than likely that he was outright lying to me in order to manipulate me and I kept telling myself that fact over and over again throughout the next hour. Unfortunately, I had as much trouble believing those words after the repeating them to myself for hundredth time as I did upon hearing them for the first time. I should have instantly dismissed him and his inferences. I make that statement now solely based on the infinite wisdom of hindsight. I have met far too many Eldar over my many decades of service who had no qualms flipping between truth and lies, using whichever story best suited their needs. Kael might have easily been doing the exact same thing. Still, early on in our…business partnership, I knew that there was something markedly different about Kael. It was a subtle pull that I had once, mistakenly, attributed to some sort of psychic manipulation. But even when accompanied by a psychic blank, that subconscious pull was there. As crazy as it sounds, I could just tell by intuition that Kael wasn't trying to deceive me as much as I tried to convince myself otherwise.

Unfortunately, trying to convince other people that I wasn't being manipulated was a more arduous task.

As my recaf-fueled mind drifted from topic to topic – Kael's words, the upcoming operation, Broklaw's choice of tactics, and where can I find a bottle of amasec – I was eventually able to push the thoughts of Kael out of my mind completely. If his aim had been to distract me, he had been succeeding thus far and I knew that I couldn't head into the field with a preoccupied mind. Regardless of whether what Kael said was true or not, it didn't change the fact that I was about to head out into a region that was likely infested with Eldar scouts and ambushers, all of whom wouldn't hesitate to turn my head into a new hood ornament for my centaur. Despite my concerns, I had a task that would require my full attention, more so than I realized at the time, and my stubborn devotion to my duty was enough to get my mind back on task.

It helped that Watz arrived at that moment having just heard news of my next assignment. He was understandably concerned about the potential risks we were undertaking all in the name of the Emperor. He pondered rhetorically about which surgeon we had used to get our lobotomies in order to think it was a good idea to send out patrols, with which the desired outcome was to get ambushed by the xenos that made hit-and-runs their specialties. Apparently he wanted to know if he could get an appointment booked too just so that he could finally understand the thought processes of the officer pool. Normally I would've told Watz to shut up and grow a pair but today his concerns were a welcomed distraction.

"Have you fought against the Eldar a lot?" I asked as I finished off what was left in my mug. It was growing close to the scheduled launch time and I would need a few minutes with Captain Sulla in order to lay down some ground rules.

"Once was too often," he replied. "Who do you think frakked my face?" I've always considered it a bizarre analogy of our relationship that never once in our time together did I ever get a full glimpse of Watz's face. He always ate in private regardless of how hungry he was when the rest of us were eating and he even slept with his gasmask on. He was a man who was never uncomfortable speaking his mind even when it included phrases like 'I hope a rabid Carpathian she-wolf rapes you in your sleep, you flat-footed frakker' straight to a general's face (but he was PDF so nobody cared); so when I came across the few subjects that he did express an aversion to, I knew that no amount of asking or prying would get him to divulge the information before he was ready to. Even Heilmit knew little about the subject and the two of them were practically brothers after everything they had been through together. "Now I'm all for getting a little payback with those sons of bitches but if you ask me, what we're doing is going to get a lot of good people killed for no reason."

"Fighting the enemies of the Emperor should be reason enough," I quickly replied. Watz was never one for that sort of explanation. To him, that was just admitting that you had no good reason and I shared that sentiment. That's likely why he didn't believe it even when I said it. "Listen, we either go find the xenos or we sit around and wait for their next attack. I, for one, prefer to take the initiative."

"Of course, because why should we have the luxury of waiting for the next attack in the comfort of our quarters when we could go trod around the ruins and wait for them to attack us there? Should I go and paint the bulls-eye on my back, commissar?"

"I doubt that will be necessary, I understand their aim is good enough without adding training aids to the equation" I said with a chuckle. Watz may have complained a lot but when the warp broke loose, there were few people I'd rather have at my side. So regardless of all his previous complaints, when I finally put down my mug and told him to get his gear together, he went ahead without another word.

I had hoped to run into Commissar Cain before my departure but when I inquired as to his whereabouts, Watz was prompt in informing me that Cain and his party had already left for their objective. Cain reasoned it was better to get a head start since he had a further distance to go. I was a little disappointed since I wanted to speak to him about Kael's sudden appearance but it would have to wait until he returned.

"Is something wrong Commissar Abel?" Watz suddenly asked.

"What makes you think something is wrong?"

"You're fidgeting with your laspistol again. You always do that when you're worried about something." It took a moment for me to even realize that he was correct. I had had my hand on my laspistol since we left my room, lightly tapping its frame with my index. It was likely a subconscious thing like the way Cain usually fidgeted with his gloves whenever he was concerned about something. I guess I always felt more comfortable when I was in control of the situation and since most situations that caused me grief also involved me getting shot at, my mind eventually just linked the thought of having a weapon in hand with having a grip on things.

And I just made a horrible pun there.

I hadn't anticipated that I had been working alongside Watz long enough for him to pick up on my subtle cues but he was apparently more observant than I had expected. But that ability of his was one of the things that made him an irreplaceable aide. Looking back on my time with Watz, I could understand how Cain held such high regard for his aide even though he smelled like an Ork that had been eaten and regurgitated by a carnifex. "It's about that Kael guy isn't it?" he added. I nodded, knowing I would be unable to hide the truth from him at this point.

"How'd you guess?" I replied.

"Given the current situation, there are only a few things that would make you nervous: Kael, the mission, or your repressed feelings for the Major."

"Good point, I…wait, what?"

"'What?' what?"

"What was that last thing you just said?"

"I said 'the mission.' Why? What did you think I said?"

"I just…uh, I thought…" I hesitated for moment, wondering if I had simply lost my marbles at last. "Oh, nevermind." I knew that it would be impossible to hide the tension between Broklaw and me from those closest to us but I hadn't imagined it would happen so quickly. Of course, I would have been lucky if Watz had been the only one to play head games with me. Somehow I could tell that he was smirking under his mask but to say anything would be to draw attention to the issue and I was still in the 'keep a low profile, deny everything' phase of dealing with those emotions. "I spoke with Kael not too long before your arrival," I admitted with a sigh.

"That bastard was here?" Watz exclaimed before I hastily motioned for him to keep it down. I obviously didn't want that news announced to the whole building. All it would take is one accusation of consorting with aliens and I would be on my way to a penal world before I'd even have a chance to explain myself. "What was he doing here?" he asked in a much quieter voice.

I shrugged. I wished I had an answer beyond speculation. "I think it was a warning or something…he wasn't exactly concise."

"Only a fool thinks they can get a straight answer out of an Eldar," Watz said bitterly. "That Eldar is bad news, even by xeno standards. You better shoot him the next time you see him."

"Believe me, I've been trying," I said with a sigh. "He's been prepared for that every time. I'm guessing he'll only come for me when he knows it's safe."

"Well maybe you should set a trap of some sort – do something he won't expect. You might be able to get straight answers out of him once he's been drugged, shackled and beaten."

I hadn't given much thought to the idea of trying to lay a trap for Kael. A first glance it might seem like a logical course of action but Kael has demonstrated a knack for anticipating opposition. Granted our fates only became intertwined because he didn't foresee my intervention back on Magnus Viridis but since then he's been able to keep two steps ahead of me. In retrospect, if I had known about Jurgen's special gift at the time I would have sought Cain's assistance. Such as it was, I had little idea of how to outwit an Eldar who had spent centuries running mental rings around humans. But he wasn't infallible. All I had to do was shift paradigm and do something I would normally never consider. Unfortunately, all that came to mind were a lot of ideas that I would normally consider. I hated the idea of not having control over something that important so it was natural for me to think of various solutions. It was from that train of thought that I got my idea. "Watz, I want you to take care of it."

"Of Kael? Uhh…I think I might be a bit outmatched there, commissar," Watz replied understandably confused.

"I just need you to think of some sort of plan we can use…you know, something that I would normally never consider because it's too crazy or outrageous. Be creative."

"Creative I can do but I warn you, you might not like what I come up with. It'll probably be…unorthodox."

"Unorthodox is good," I said reassuringly. "He won't expect that. The crazier, the better." In hindsight, perhaps I shouldn't have said that last part. Watz appeared eager to prove his worth and validate my trust in him (or he just really wanted to outwit the Eldar). He said he wouldn't let me down and would start asking around for something he already had in mind. Just as a random thought, I asked if he had heard of somebody named Vail that Kael might be connected to in some way. As I expected, he shrugged his shoulder and said that the only 'Miss Vail' he knew of was a Trooper Vale in third company…but that girl was as sharp as a soggy biscuit so I doubt that she would have anything to do with the Eldar. I only recognized the name because she once came across the disciplinary board for setting the kitchen on fire while making tea (and don't ask me how - we had a three-man investigation team come up with no answers after a week). Given that I was no closer to finding out whom this Vail person was and I still had an overly enthusiastic captain to put a leash on, we hurried on our way.

Outside, Captain Sulla was as pleased to see me as I had expected - poorly veiled disappointment mixed with an eagerness to prove her worth nonetheless. Perhaps she interpreted my attachment as a sign of attention from the legendary commissar and if she proved her worth, eventually he would grace her with his presence. It was an unfamiliar sentiment given that most captains wanted the commissar to be as far away as possible.

"Ready to go wrangle up some xenos?" Sulla remarked when she saw my aides and I. The captain and her handpicked team were already prepped for launch when I arrived. Cain apparently explicitly told them to wait for me, which was a good thing because I doubt Sulla would have waited otherwise. Most of the other parties had already departed and Sulla hated being the last to leave. Once again my ability to recognize people in gasmasks came into play and I was able to easily pinpoint the captain's location despite the absence of the usual visual cues. I could almost hear the ear-to-ear grin in her voice. The patrol itself was comprised of five teams: four teams consisting of a chimera and ten soldiers, and one team composed of the command chimera plus a second chimera and its compliment of ten soldiers. We hoped to keep the teams in a close but loose formation but in order to cover enough ground we would inevitably have to split into individual elements. I decided to stay with the command chimera – most of the CC's crew were needed to operate the vox caster, auspex scanner, and skull probes, so the added security would be necessary or at least that's what I told Sulla. More importantly I needed to be close by if I was to have any chance of keeping Sulla in line.

Since everybody had been waiting for me, we headed into the ruined cityscape. Since we were certain that the areas surrounding both the base camp and the Mechanicus' excavation site were secure (which we referred to as the green zone), we were able to ride the chimeras out to the borders of the green zone. Adhering to Cain's advice, I listened in on the vox chatter between the various patrols, occasionally catching a few messages sent from Cain and his party. From what I could piece together from all the chatter, the ruins were filled with a whole lot of nothing. If there were any Eldars out there, they were doing a very good job at keeping a low profile. Of course, if I saw a column of armoured transports rolling by, I too would have kept my head down.

The soldiers around me were quiet for the most part. I heard Cain's name pop up in hushed whispers a few times so I suspected some were discussing his heroic defence of the communication spire. I spent my time reading over a map of the area we were scouting, which had been taped onto the wall next to the vox caster. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about our destination. It appeared to have once been a residential hab complex, which would have meant a lot of hiding places for ambushers but most of the hab-spires had big red X's over them marking them as having been destroyed. Since the underground tunnel system would be too small for vehicles, the Eldar had to have a base located on the surface to launch their attacks from. Too bad hover tanks don't leave tracks or we might've had something to go on. With so many mountains of crushed rockrete and plasteel around us, the auspex scanners on the chimeras were only going to detect alien bio-signatures within a ten meter radius and even then it was patchy at the extremities. The only things giving our party any clue as to what was around were the skull probes, which trailed several meters overhead.

"Okay people, we're nearing our destination so everybody out," Sulla said over the vox up as the chimeras slowly came to a halt. There were way too many tight corners to do an effective search from inside the vehicle, so everybody save for the vehicle crews clambered out into the hazy, wind-swept streets. Or at least the map said we were on a street. There were so many craters and mountains of rubble that it was hard to tell where we stood. "You're welcome to ride in one of the chimeras if you want," the captain said to me just before I stepped out of the transport.

"I'll walk. I could use the fresh air," I replied. Being the commissar already drew enough attention to me, I didn't need to augment it by riding around in the bullet-magnets. What I saw shouldn't have surprised me but the scope of the destruction the Imperial Navy had wrought did not become obvious to me until I was standing in the middle of it. What was left of the streets were filled with twisted metal hulks of cars, trucks, and tanks; spires that once touched the clouds were smashed across the earth, flattening entire city blocks beneath their girth; ruined, hollowed towers that looked as though they were only staying upright by the sheer force of will of all the people down below; and aside from the chugging of the chimera engines behind us, all was dead silent.

"Like finding a fart in an Ork camp," Watz commented as he took his usual position at my side.

"Except these farts are armed with shuriken guns," I replied.

"Catapult."

"I beg your pardon?"

"They're called shuriken catapults," Watz explained. He could probably sense me glaring at him. "Just…didn't want you walking around using the wrong terminology that's all commissar."

"Okay smart guy, you get to take point," I replied. I usually didn't punish Watz for his smart-ass remarks aside from a bit of verbal wrist-slapping but today this just gave me a good excuse. I was going to suggest him to take the lead regardless. Seeing as he was accustomed to fighting in a gasmask, I had more confidence in Watz's perception. He was also by nature a cautious person so he'd be even more alert compared to the others. He didn't enjoy being given the assignment but I wasn't his boss just so I could be on his Emperor's Day card list. He grumbled a bit but being at the front meant we didn't have to hear any of his other complaints.

The five teams began to branch out with ours advancing up the center with the two teams on either side advancing up parallel corridors. Sulla wanted a slightly wider advance but I vetoed her in favour of keeping a slightly tighter defence. It meant we would take longer but whether or not we were attacked wasn't a matter of when, just if. And if I had learned anything from Kael, it was that Eldar were either prepared for your arrival or well out of your way. If there were any Eldar where we were heading, they would either be hidden, on their way out, or waiting in ambush. It was odd that, for a change, I was hoping for an ambush to occur though at the same time I was silently praying to the Emperor that the first shots fired weren't aimed at me. The only things protecting me against a bullet to the skull were Watz's vigilance and my own sense of dread and paranoia.

For the next several hours we combed up and down the ruined streets, poking our noses into every little nook and cranny for anything out of the ordinary. Though some areas were searched relatively quickly, most of the patrol was a long, meticulous process with soldiers climbing piles of debris just to see what was ahead of us. Our patrol got stalled on a few occasions due to false alarms, the worst one being when a chimera's turret gunner mistook some twisted metal for an Eldar sharpshooter and immediately unleashed the gun's fury on it. It took the sergeant a few minutes just to realize there were no targets and get everybody to stop firing. And just to be certain, the team spent an extra twenty minutes just sifting through the rubble to make sure the gunner had indeed jumped the gun. So's to speak.

Unfortunately, not all was going well. A couple hours into our patrol, our vox caster reported that we had lost the signal from Commissar Cain's party. There had been no indication of trouble or anything to suggest why his signal was lost. The vox caster simply stated that the signal suddenly started to weaken and then went completely dead. "I hope the commissar is okay," Heilmit commented overheard me talking to the vox caster. "You think it might have something do with the hazardous waste facility?"

"That's entirely possible," I replied. "Those places are usually heavily shielded and background radiation can interfere with vox communications. I'm sure if he was in trouble he would double-back to outside the interference."

"Or he's been surrounded, cut-off, and is now being assailed by dozen of xenos because he inadvertently stumbled upon an Eldar listening post that was using the background radiation of the waste storage facility to mask their signatures on auspex scans."

"Oh…well, I certainly hope that's not the case," I said reluctantly. Maintaining the status quo with our escapades, that was exactly the case. While we walked about trying to find signs of Eldar, Commissar Cain was doing the chainsword waltz with a half-dozen Eldar swordsmen. However, we were unknowingly about ten minutes away from eating hot shuriken sandwiches so Cain probably had things easier in comparison.

The Eldar came as I had feared they would when a vox caster reported one of the skull probes belonging to team one went silent, shortly followed by the sergeant shouting at his men to form a defensive perimeter. The entire advance came to a halt as everyone anxiously waited for the inevitable. There was a tiny, fleeting, undersized and malnourished hope that the skull probe had failed for entirely different reasons but I doubt many harboured that thought. A few moments later, another skull probe from the same team went dead, then another, and another until team one was left almost entirely blind. Finally, we heard the crackling of a multi-las in the distance. Knowing Sulla would want to rush in to assist, I headed into the command chimera – not for the protection, mind you, but because I wanted a tactical overview of the situation and I needed the map and auspex for that. A quick glance at the map revealed that team one was in an isolated position. The five teams advanced up parallel streets with connecting side roads but a collapsed building had cut-off the road connecting team one's lane to its neighbour. I suspected that Sulla's first instinct would be to reinforce the team under fire, a suspicion that was confirmed a few moments later when she ordered team two to advance. However, for team two to reach team one, they had to advance roughly two hundred yards to reach the next connecting side road and then double back to reach one (the alternative was to double-back almost thrice the distance to the previous side road, then advance along team one's route). Since Kael was an archetypical Eldar tactician, I tried to think of what his plan of action would be were he commanding the Eldars we were facing. What would I do if I were a conniving, devious, little bastard? Sulla's orders was going to leave team two exposed while in transit and after glancing at the map once more, I could pinpoint several locations where they could be easily cut off and isolated. Unfortunately, for team two to be isolated, that meant our team would eventually come under fire as well in order to keep us pinned down.

"Team two, belay that last order. Hold position until further notice," I interjected just seconds after Sulla gave her instructions.

"Commissar, what are you doing?" Sulla asked with barely contained frustration. The sash and cap were the only things protecting me from an irate captain…that and the penalty of death.

"Working on a hunch," I answered. "Team one – report size and composition of enemy force."

"Two squads of light infantry supported by a shuriken cannon," the sergeant responded promptly. He was reassuringly calm despite being under heavy fire and his two commanders arguing over the next course of action. "They're well entrenched to our left flank in the building ruins."

"Any heavy weapons?"

"Negative commissar. No sign of any brightlances or fusion weapons but I doubt that will last." I told the sergeant to hold his position for a little while longer just as Sulla had dropped into the chimera for a face-to-face confrontation.

"Would you mind filling me in on the details Commissar Abel," Sulla asked. Judging by her tone, her patience was reaching its limits, which was understandable since I've basically hijacked her team. However, it was well within my authority if I felt the commanding officer was incapable of fulfilling her duty and though I wouldn't call Sulla incompetent, she was about to charge headlong into an ambush. True, she might have been able to fight her way through it but if I could accomplish the same task with fewer casualties I was taking that option.

"Don't you think it's odd that they would ambush an armoured vehicle without any anti-tank weapons?" I asked.

"They're probably just moving them into position," she replied.

"Exactly," I said as I pointed to the map. "And they're going to be aimed right down this corridor for when team two comes in for the rescue." Sulla's silence was her way of conceding defeat in an argument. Thankfully, Sulla wasn't so prideful that she wouldn't admit she had to rethink a flawed tactic.

Sulla looked to the map, humming quietly as she tried to devise a new plan that didn't involve walking into a cross fire. "We'll have team one pull back to the last side road and cross over into lane two. Team two can double-back to meet them and if the Eldar pursue, they can hold them off at the crossroad. The Eldar will probably come out in force once they realize we're not falling for their little trap so we should consolidate the rest of our forces as well."

"They'll expect us to regroup though. They'll be waiting for us to move."

"Meaning we're probably sitting in the sights of a brightlance right now," Sulla said with a faint sigh. "They're probably waiting for us to move into optimal range when we advance to the next crossroad in order to regroup."

Pausing to browse the map once more, I realized what a delicate situation we were in. If Sulla was correct, then all the Eldar were doing was waiting for a signal to put holes through our vehicle. Even at long range, I wasn't expecting the chimera's hull to withstand an impact from a brightlance. Though unorthodox, our best bet was to pull the vehicles back a bit and advance with infantry through the rubble where we would have adequate cover. The streets would be too well defended to make use of the chimera's firepower. Sulla agreed in an unsettlingly prompt fashion. I guess she hated staying behind in the chimera as much as Cain and I did. We devised our new strategy and relayed the necessary orders to the remaining teams. The other sergeants sounded just as eager to enter the fray as Sulla. "We still have those brightlances to worry about…" Sulla commented.

"We might just have to run and pray for the Emperor's protection," I replied. On a hunch, though, I decided to contact Watz who was still all the way out in front. "Hypothetical situation for you Corporal - if you were an Eldar and you were staring at us with a brightlance laser, where would you be hiding?"

"Hypothetically speaking Commissar…" Watz said before pausing briefly to survey his surroundings. "I would hypothetically be hiding in the building ruins at the end of the road about two hundred yards ahead of us on the second story in order to keep the lead chimera in my sights. and I would hypothetically be praying to my blasphemous alien gods that you do not put a box of heavy bolter rounds into the support column on my right so that the roof doesn't collapse on my pointy xeno head."

"What do you think Captain? Slam the chimeras in reverse with all guns firing?"

"I always thought commissars were supposed to be steadfastly opposed to falling back," Sulla quipped.

"We're not falling back - we're advancing towards victory. It just happens to be a few hundred meters behind us." While it was true that many by-the-book commissars would consider our tactic to be cowardly or unfitting of Imperial Guardsman, I've yet to meet a frontline officer that would've disagreed with me. One's appreciation of tactical manoeuvres and stratagem becomes far more apparent when you're part of the group that's getting shot at. Though I do not doubt that Sulla would have preferred a more direct approach, sitting in a chimera with a brightlance laser cannon aimed at it was enough to make her reconsider her next move.

"Teams three, four, and five, listen up," Sulla said into the vox caster, "on my mark, all chimeras will double back at top speed to crossroad number 22, heavy suppression fire on the far end of the street. At the same time, all accompanying infantry will take cover in the debris fields and advance forward to clear out all enemy resistance." After Sulla had explained the plan, I quickly instructed Watz to stay with the sergeant and follow his lead until we can meet up as I did not want to leave the chimera in case that tipped off the Eldar to our plans. As I was used to being driven around by Watz, who could be a bit erratic at times, I braced myself against the wall. On Sulla's cue, the chimera jolted in reverse as the engine kicked into overdrive. The heavy bolters began belching out rounds downrange as the vehicles sped away. I heard the distinct crack of heavy laser fire and the chimera rattled when a brightlance bolt struck its hull. Thankfully, at our distance the weapon had lost enough power to only put a hole in the vehicle's track cover. It was moments like those that I was grateful that whoever designed the ubiquitous chimera had enough sense to put in an equal number of reverse gears as there were forward ones.

As we had anticipated, once the element of surprise had been blasted away, the remainder of the Eldar emerged from hiding and began to attack in force. But by then it was too late and our troops had taken cover in the ruins. In the face of a coordinated, disciplined assault, I was confident that our troops would prevail. Eldar soldiers were no match for the Valhallans in a straight-up fight and I counted on them becoming discouraged in light of their failed ambush. Emperor willing, the Eldar would pull back without putting up much of a fight.

When the chimera finally came to a halt a safe distance away from the firefight, I opened the rear hatch and stepped out. I had no interest in sitting inside while our troops were fighting the enemy. "Watz, what's the situation up there?" I said over the vox.

"Multiple contacts but we're facing light resistance," Watz's voice crackled back over the comm-bead. "They're regrouping at the far end. If we can keep them bottled up, we might be able to take them out all at once with the chimera's heavy weapons." I wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of bringing the vehicle back into the brightlance's optimal firing range after we had gone to such lengths to get it out. But with the proper amount of suppression fire and perhaps the use of smoke grenades, it would wasn't an unreasonable tactic. I decided not to suggest a frontal assault to Sulla since she would probably opt not to wait for suppression fire or smoke grenades before charging in. Unfortunately, frontal assaults were not just her preference and speciality but they were her lifelong passion (which still surprises me to this day how long a life it was).

"Captain Sulla," I called out to her, "Watz reports that we're pushing the Eldar back. We can use the heavy bolters for indirect fire support and maybe scare the Eldar into a full retreat."

"If we can keep the brightlance suppressed, we can advance the chimeras and utilize their full firepower," Sulla replied, reaching the inevitable conclusion of frontal attack. It was as if the tracks for her train of thought had no junctions. She emerged behind the heavy bolter turret again, twisting around so as to speak with me directly. There's an old axiom of battle that if things appear to be going well, you've forgotten something. It suddenly hit me "If they were planning to ambush us, there should be a rear guard to box us in."

Were I Commissar Cain, I would've realized that fact long before had pulled back but being the inexperienced commissar that I was, all I could do was try not to make a stupid, horrified expression when that realization set in. It was a sensation that was cemented when shuriken fire began panging off the side of the chimera and Sulla suddenly let out a yelp before falling inside the chimera, clutching at her neck.

"Captain Sulla!" I shouted fruitlessly, unable to assist as shuriken fire forced me to take cover behind the chimera. Suddenly, from the ruins there came a piercing, horrifying wail – a shriek so powerful that it seemed to penetrate into my mind and resonate within my spirit. I instinctively palmed my ears but to affect. It was though the sound now emanated from inside my very skull. The sound scrambled my thoughts and overwhelmed my focus, leaving me completely vulnerable to the squad of Eldar warriors rushing towards our chimera. They were Eldar banshees and we had just been paralyzed by their signature psychosonic scream. The crew of two chimeras were left writhing as the Eldar warriors descended upon us. The five of them went for the closest chimera (thankfully not the one I was using to keep from toppling over in pain), cleaving open the vehicle's light armour with their Eldritch blades before depositing grenades within. Our infantry support didn't even realize we were under attack until the chimera exploded.

By the time the effects of the banshee's scream began to wear off, I had already been floored by the exploding chimera and was now struggling with a ringing in my ears and the feeling as though a bare-knuckled astartes had just pummelled all my organs. But the human mind had a wonderful gating mechanism when it came to pain – so painful were my bodily injuries that my brain seemed to forget about the pain in my head. My focus sharpened at the sight of oncoming banshees. Instinct and reflexes took over as I quickly drew my laspistol and fired from the hip. The first shot found its mark, hitting the leading banshee square in the chest and dropping her like a cursed relic. Unfortunately, that act also made me the first target of the remaining four banshees. I kept firing but they were ready for it as they ducked behind the opposite side of the chimera. I was trapped between a rock and a very sharp blade: running was impossible as they could easily catch up to me; holding my ground was suicide against three sword-wielding Eldar warriors; and even if I managed to put enough distance to get a shot off, I might be able to kill one before the other three sliced me to ribbons. But if I thought I had time to even make a decision, I was sadly mistaken. One of the banshees took to climbing over the chimera and only by the Emperor's providence did I notice the Eldar's shadow on the ground. All I could manage on such short notice was to dive out of the way just as the Eldar tried to pounce blade-first onto me.

I rushed to get my laspistol back up, only to have it kicked from my hand, followed by a boot to the face. Gunless and sprawled on my arse, a younger me would have resigned to death with trademark Kriegan stoicism. But Cain had taught me that hope remained so long as you kept fighting and so long as there was hope, there was a chance for victory. Cain never stopped fighting and neither was I. As the Eldar woman drove her blade for me, I suddenly snapped my shock maul from its hold and parried the oncoming blade. The blade just narrowly missed my body, though my great coat died a quick death when the blade cut through the epaulette. Thumbing the power switch then sent a powerful shock through the Eldar's blade, throwing up a storm of sparks and smoke when it passed through the hilt and up her arm. Unfortunately, my lack of foresight led to the dead Eldar banshee collapsing on top of me. While neither heavy nor cumbersome, pushing her off of me took up valuable seconds when there were still three more banshees out for my blood.

I was still on my backside when the remainder of the banshees stepped into view. Though I couldn't understand what they were saying, I imagine the sight of their dead comrade ticked them off. The first Eldar was stepping up to finish me off when a sudden blast of shuriken fire hit the banshee in the hand, knocking her sword away. I think it's safe to say that none of us were expecting shuriken fire to save my sorry arse, especially a shot fired by another Eldar banshee. However, the first thing I noticed about my mysterious rescuer was that she wore armour in the same blue and yellow pattern that Kael's bodyguard had, as opposed to the other banshees who wore white and green. The green and white banshees kept put, shouting something at the blue banshee who kept her pistol levelled at them. I imagine the conversation involved a lot of questions and marked confusion and they were probably asking the same things that I would have – what the frak was going on? Who the frak are you? Why are you saving my worthless hide? Plus I was just puzzled by the sight of Eldar fighting other Eldar. It felt like it was breaking some sort of cosmic law. Whatever they were discussing, I was hesitant to make any sudden movements since I had no guarantees that the blue banshee wouldn't turn hostile on me. Maybe she was claiming the right to kill me based on her higher standing in the colour spectrum. How the frak did I know? She seemed to be going to some lengths to avoid killing the others so she probably would've re-evaluated the worth of saving my life if I tried to kill them. After some more arguing (I assumed it was arguing by how angry the green ones sounded) the attacking banshees holstered their weapons. While two of them began backing away, a third one came over to me and hoisted the fallen Eldar into her arms. After one of the other banshees picked up the remaining fallen Eldar, they withdrew into the ruins. By that point my brain was a swirling mass of 'what the frak?'

"Kael sent you didn't he?" I asked. She looked to me but didn't say anything. Perhaps she would have but Watz and a few others were running over to my position and when the banshee noticed them, she ran off.

"Commissar Abel!" Watz shouted as he rushed over to me. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine Watz, thank you," I replied as he helped me back to my feet. As the adrenaline wore off, I suddenly remembered another important matter. "Sulla!" At first the others were confused but they got the general idea of what was going on when I raced to the back-end of the chimera. "Captain Sulla!" I called out as I poked my head in. Thank the Emperor my reflexes were still sharp, as I had to quickly pull back when a lasbolt nearly put a hole in it. "Bloody hell Sulla, it's me!"

"Shit…sorry about that," a strained voice replied. Entering more cautiously now, I saw Sulla slouched at the far end of the chimera with a lasgun kept steady on a knee while her free hand kept pressure on a wound on her neck. "I…I thought you were one of them," she added with a relieved grin. I quickly grabbed a nearby medkit and took out a pack of field dressings and set to work on helping the wounded captain.

"Emperor's blood, I thought you had bought it," I said as I pushed her hand aside so I could see the injury better.

"Probably came close to it," she said with a restrained chuckle.

"Yeah…looks like another half-inch and you would have painted the whole interior red," I remarked. Despite its location, the wound was shallow and had missed the major blood vessels. When medic soon arrived and took over for me, I headed back outside where Watz was waiting for me. Once outside, I quickly realized two things: firstly, the rest of our infantry had returned; and secondly, the air had gone silent (save for a smouldering chimera wreck). Before I could even ask, Watz filled me in on the details.

"Don't ask me why but all of a sudden, those damn xenos just suddenly up and vanished," he said with a hint of frustration mixed with relief. "I know those bastards are cowards but…dammit I would've liked to have killed a few before they ran for it." The other teams reported similar occurrences with the Eldar suddenly withdrawing without any effort. I couldn't help but wonder if it had anything to do with the blue banshee's sudden appearance. It couldn't have been a coincidence. Not wanting to strain the captain, I took temporary command and instructed the chimeras to regroup. While the troops took up a defensive perimeter, Watz motioned me to follow him away from the others. I was curious as to why he would want to speak with me in private given that he had no qualms speaking his mind in front of others, especially me.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

"Kael's not alone, is he?"

"No…he isn't. When he came to me, a soldier wearing blue armour accompanied him. And just now a blue-armoured banshee showed up and saved me from a bunch of other banshees."

"I thought so. Just before the Eldar pulled out, I saw a blue armoured Eldar soldier advancing towards the main Eldar holdout. I only caught a glimpse of him as he entered their position. Is there's something going on here that you haven't told me yet?" I let out a quiet sigh while I tried to piece all the information together. I knew that Kael wasn't alone but now it appeared that he had brought a number of Eldar with him and that made for whole new complications. If he was helping us (or just helping me), then shooting at the wrong Eldar could quickly sour that alliance. And mentioning the possibility of another Eldar detachment could shift Broklaw's attention in the wrong direction. I needed to handle the matter delicately without making it appear as though I'm in cahoots with them.

"Kael mentioned that the other Eldar were 'locked in their path.' It's entirely possible that we have two groups of Eldar with conflicting agendas."

"Two different groups of Eldars fighting one another?" Watz replied.

"Not agreeing and not helping one another but for the moment I think fighting is too strong a word for what's happening. Unless it's over fashion opinions. Who wears green and white at this time of the year?"


	6. SIX

**SIX**

After a brief deliberation with Captain Sulla and the squad leaders, it was eventually decided that the patrol would still proceed but Captain Sulla and the other wounded would to return to base. While Sergeant Kronnin would be the ranking officer, Sulla decided to pass command of the patrol to me. That worked in my favour as I was going to assume command of the patrol regardless of what Sulla's decision had been. While I had nothing against Kronnin personally, he had too much in common with Sulla in that he had a passionate hatred for Eldar and he was an impatient man. I didn't want him leading a patrol that required both restraint and patience. When I needed an attack dog I could turn to him but in the meantime I didn't want to accidentally chase down the wrong Eldar. If Kael's Eldar were helping us then I was going to give them a bit of space (not that I trusted them entirely). Help from Eldar was rarely in a conventional fashion so it was entirely possible that they would assist without us even being aware of it. Sulla, as to be expected, was initially reluctant to hand over command or even back down from the patrol. She argued that her 'minor wound' wasn't going to stop her from completing her duty. However, the medic remarked that if Sulla stretched her neck too far to one side she could tear open her jugular. But even with the squad leaders and medics all in agreement, she still refused to back down. In the end I gave Sulla an ultimatum: she would either return to base to receive medical treatment or I would give her an injury that necessitated returning to base for medical treatment.

She was far more agreeable after that.

Sulla and the others returned to base with team one's chimera and the depleted squads were reorganised into new teams. With five squads but only four chimeras, I decided to have the command chimera run on its own with the extra squad of troops. I let Heilmit sit behind the heavy bolter while I kept watch inside the chimera. The tension in the air was thick now that we had been ambushed. While it was unlikely the Eldar would try another ambush so soon after their initial attempt, these things take time to properly prepare, but we weren't going to take any chances. We advanced more slowly and with a tighter formation save for our two scouts (one of whom was Watz) who walked several meters ahead of us. Concentrating our forces meant we moved slower and covered less ground but any ambush would require a larger Eldar force and therefore take more time to coordinate. "Any word from Commissar Cain's team?" I asked the vox operator. He regretfully shook his head. Cain's vox channels were still silent and none of the other teams had reported making any contact with him. As for the Eldar, while a few of our other patrols reported spotting Eldar scouts, none had met with any resistance. It appeared as though the Eldar were simply watching the other patrols, which meant there was a good chance that we were close to something important - perhaps a forward observation post or a listening station.

"Major Broklaw is on the line, commissar," the vox operator alerted me a few minutes later. "He wants a status report."

Though not surprised that the Major was keeping a close eye on the patrols, I wasn't expecting him to ask for a second report given that Sulla had sent one shortly before we sent her back to base. For a moment, I thought it might have been because he wanted first-hand confirmation that I was unharmed but I dismissed that notion immediately. Broklaw was too professional and it was egotistical of me to think I held that much sway over him. "This is Commissar Abel speaking," I greeted promptly but politely.

"Commissar, I was just recently informed of your situation. What's the status of your current forces?"

"Four dead, seven wounded, and one wrecked chimera. I've sent Sulla and the wounded back to base and continuing the mission with the remainder," I replied, feeling a bit odd given that I had repeated everything that Sulla had reported a short while ago. "But Captain Sulla told you all this about fifteen minutes ago."

"True but she insisted she was still able to fight," Broklaw said. "I wanted to make sure things were still under control. Also, Lt. Upham's patrol just returned with no results so once we've refuelled the chimeras we're going to send them to join your patrol."

"The extra numbers would be greatly appreciated," I said with a hint of relief. "You can tell them to advance to rally point one-five-five and then make their sweep through the south-westerly route. We'll meet up with them at point two-three-two and figure out how to handle the rest of the route from there." While it was tempting to hold position and wait for the reinforcements, the Eldar were aware of our presence in the area. If there was any sort of Eldar encampment or installation in the vicinity, then every moment we wasted was a moment that they could use to pull out and destroy any evidence or equipment. Even ten minutes could spell the difference between finding an Eldar listening post and a smoking crater.

Unfortunately, I was sadly mistaken if I thought that anything today would be accomplished with great haste. While being bored watching over a gaggle of troops comb through ruins is usually infinitely preferably to being shot at, it didn't change the fact that after four hours you yearned for something to shoot, just to break the monotony. After eight hours, I was willing to volunteer for any duty if it meant I could let loose with a few rounds in anger. "Patience my ass, I just wanna kill something", was becoming my unofficial motto. Some people, like Cain, were capable of taking combat naps in these kinds of situation but the still-present threat of an Eldar ambush kept me edgy and irritable with my mind racing through possible scenarios. After all, how were we to know that they had all buggered off after the failed ambush? A good-bye note would have been nice but I imagine the bastards were all having a good laugh watching us flinch at every odd-shaped shadow and tumbling rock. After several hours I started rotating the troops, cycling them through short breaks in the chimera so they could rest their feet and scarf down a ration bar. Even I took turns between riding in the chimera and walking with the troops so another Guardsman could take a sort break. I needed as many as possible to be fresh and alert otherwise we risked walking into another ambush. Watz was the only person who stubbornly refused to take a rest until I ordered him to. Like all Kriegan he objected to taking a rest while the mission was still underway. I suspect it was partly because of the blue-armoured Eldar that were running around somewhere out there. He preferred his battles to be simple – see the enemy, engage the enemy, kill the enemy - and Eldar never made things simple. Whatever was going on, he just wanted to figure it out so he could get on with the killing. So in the end, I only managed to get him to sit down for ten minutes. And somehow during those ten minutes he managed to eat a whole ration bar without anybody in the chimera seeing him take his mask off. It wasn't the first time he had managed the feat nor the last, but I've never figured out how he did it.

"When is it safe to say that we're never going to find anything out here?" Heilmit commented when his turn to take a break came up. Though I shared in his sentiment, I knew I couldn't turn back with the mission incomplete and I knew he was aware of that fact. "I say we bomb the whole area again. That'll flush any xenos out."

"There you go again with your big explosions again," I said with a sigh. "The people on this world fought long and hard to keep this planet loyal to the Imperium. It's hard enough keeping people on our side without us rewarding their loyalty with a megaton bomb."

"Faith in the Emperor should be reason enough."

"It should be but not everybody is made like Kriegans or Valhallans. Sometimes they just need something tangible to hold onto. And as loyal Guardsmen it's your duty to inspire the faithful. Remember that it is not guns or armour that has allowed the Imperium to stand for ten thousand years but the strength of our faith. It is faith that holds the line, faith that vanquishes the enemy, and it is faith that will ensure our continued dominance in the galaxy. We're not here to just blow shit up." My impromptu speech would probably have been far more inspiring had somebody not just fired off several rounds at a suspicious shadow in the ruins, hitting a broken gas valve, and triggering an explosion that ripped across three city blocks. But it wasn't for nought, as the chain of explosions seemed to have clear away some of the rockrete that had been interfering with the vox casters and seconds later we started receiving a faint signal.

"Commissar Abel!" the vox operator suddenly spoke up with marked enthusiasm. "I think I'm getting a signal from Commissar Cain's team."

"Cain? Let me hear it," I said as I snatched the headphones from him.

"This…Commi…ain…does any…read me?" The signal was definitely weak and I was straining just to make out the individual words through the static that was almost overpowering but I could definitely make out his name. "We're in the…heading…please respond…"

"I can't make out a location," I muttered in frustration.

"If we're only just getting it, then it's probably underground and it must be close by," the vox operator explained.

"Can't you fix it like…boost the signal?"

"It's already boosted. That's the first thing I did," he replied with a hint of annoyance. Specialists never like it when you try to pretend to understand their job and the kind of effort they put into it. I had basically asked him the equivalent of 'is the safety on?' "He has to be close by. We should try searching for an access to the underground tunnels or something."

"That's kinda vague. Can you triangulate the signal and get a location…or something like that?" There I went again trying to pretend I knew a damn thing about how vox casters worked.

"You need three points to triangulate, we only have two. You can't triangulate from a straight line! I can analyze the signal strength and get an area of probability but that's as good as it gets!" He was a little irked but in all fairness I had it coming so I couldn't hold it against him. In hindsight, those were some pretty stupid questions of me to ask but if Cain was close by then I wanted to find him and quickly. He subsequently boiled down all the technical jargon of interpreting vox signals into a simple point of the finger and a suggestion of 'try that way.'

I ordered the patrol to change course before returning to the maps in hopes of figuring out where Cain might be. Between the craters, the ruins, and the tunnels, the chances of finding them were almost non-existent. However, the limited range of communicating through tonnes of rockrete improved the odds from 'infinity to one' to a more manageable 'sanity's chance in the warp.' The soldiers began scouring the ruins along our new heading while I continued to monitor Cain's transmissions. We tried sending a response but according to our vox operator the portable unit lacked the signal boosting strength needed to make out our signal. At best they would get some static that a vox operator might be able to interpret as speech but even that was slim in our current situation.

"The signal's getting a bit stronger. We're definitely getting close," the vox operator informed me after a few minutes. I asked how close we would need to be to send a message back. "If he's still underground, we'll need to be right on top of them to get a message through." In other words I'd have more luck if I stepped out of the chimera and started yelling. But just as our odds seemed daunting, the Emperor smiled upon us. The chimera suddenly lurched to a halt, almost causing me to hit my head on the back of the driver's compartment.

Watz, on point as usual, had signalled the patrol to halt though he did not make it clear why until I voxxed him personally. He replied that he spotted Eldar up ahead and asked for me to come up and see for myself. I wasn't sure why he needed me to see it with my own eyes but I trusted his judgment and disembarked. I was quickly growing curious, especially since Watz told me to 'keep low and quiet as humanly possible.' I headed up the line making no sound until I found Watz crouched behind a small pile of rubble with his head just peering through a crack between two large chunks of rockrete.

"We got a problem – Eldar up ahead," Watz explained upon my arrival. While Eldar are always a problem wherever they show up, I was having trouble pinpointing Watz's concern given that he had spotted the Eldar and nobody had started shooting at us yet. Either the Eldar were feeling extraordinarily generous in letting us have a free shot or they hadn't seen us. Somehow, the concept of 'sneaking up on an Eldar' seemed as alien as 'vegan Tyranids' so I had trouble shaking the feeling that something was horribly awry. And that was when I realized what Watz was so concerned about. He had reached the same conclusion that I had – things were simply too good to be true. "Look there, Commissar…third story, bombed-out room with the tattered drapes."

Now if Watz hadn't pointed them out to me, I likely would have only seen the Eldar through a pair of surprised and dead eyes. Down at the very far end of the road, around a hundred plus meters away, was a partially destroyed apartment hub with an extremely large crater where the courtyard used to be. The room he pointed out seemed like any other room that had been redecorated with a demo-charge. Amidst the broken furniture and partially collapsed walls, were a couple of Eldar – one crouched low while the other peered cautiously through what remained of a window overlooking the massive crater. When I finally acknowledged seeing them, Watz directed my attention to several other points on the building, all of which had Eldar lurking just barely in sight. But there was one other unsettling fact they all had in common.

"They're all looking the wrong way," I commented when I noticed their common orientation.

"Clearly they're not waiting for us," Watz replied.

"What if Commissar Cain is somewhere over there?" I postulated.

"Entirely possible. There are probably a dozen underground passageways that connect Cain's last position to here. He must have stirred up a hornet's nest if they're willing to risk setting up an ambush while we're still patrolling the area."

"Then perhaps we should go and substantiate those risks."

Watz let out a quiet sigh, "It'll make a nice change to be the ambusher rather than the ambushee." I was expecting a few more complaints from my aide but he stayed uncharacteristically quiet for a change. Maybe the Eldar brought out the soldier in him or perhaps he was more tired than he let on. Indeed, Watz was never one to admit weakness, even when he had to march half a day on a sprained ankle while carrying a full kitbag. Either way, I returned to the chimera to pass the information on to the rest of the troops.

Sergeant Kronnin and I quickly drew up a straight-forward plan; the chimera would head up the center and make the initial assault while our infantry again split into two teams and assaulted the apartment hub from both sides. While the Eldar were entrenched in a position that was perfect for assaulting anybody who may emerge from the bottom of the crater, it offered less protection from a street level assault. Relocating to defend against our assault would ruin any chance of an effective ambush and, if the Emperor blessed us once again, force the Eldar to abandon their plans. While I much preferred to destroy my enemies utterly, since 99% of the time dead people don't keep fighting (the remaining 1% is a nightmare I'll share another day), I did not want to get drawn into a protracted firefight and risk attracting more Eldar. Plus, if Cain was somewhere nearby I imagined he would appreciate the ride.

Since I was in command of the patrol, I had to stay in the chimera as to properly coordinate the assault. I felt a little guilty because to me it felt as though I was using it as an excuse to stay away from the most dangerous fighting but I tried not to let those thoughts undermine me. Perhaps a lesser guardsman would use it as such but I reminded myself that command meant looking past luxuries like personal glory.

"All teams are in position, Commissar. Awaiting your order," reported the vox operator.

"Okay, it's payback time," I replied. "All units move in and engage the enemy."

The chimera began its approach, its arrival heralded by its churning engine, plumes of promethium smog, and the thunderous roar of its heavy bolter. Accuracy wasn't as much of a concern as we just needed to make as much of a ruckus as possible and, luck allowing, make fighting us as undesirable an option as possible. What remained of the apartment hub's outer walls was quickly being torn apart by the chimera's explosive rounds, leaving the Eldar inside with even less cover to operate with. If there was any return fire I couldn't hear it over the sound of our own weapons. Once again, Valhallan fury and resolve were proving more than a match for the Eldar but I was not focusing on the battle's progress as something else had drawn my attention.

"Can you hear me Abel?"

I know not how to describe it other than a soft whisper that seemed to echo from within my ear, as though spoken by a man who stood mere inches from me and yet left no breath or presence. Understandably, I was taken by surprise and it took a moment for me to realize that it was neither the vox operator nor anybody over the vox network.

"Kael…" I muttered to myself. It had to be him. There was no other explanation. With complete (and idiotic) disregard for my safety, I popped open the roof hatch and looked for anything suspicious nearby. What I saw wasn't Kael but it was just as suspicious – it looked like some sort of canine-like creature. I saw it only for the briefest of moments before it fled down an alleyway but given my past experiences with coincidences (or the complete lack thereof) I knew it had to mean something. And I was willing to bet a week's salary that it was the same one I spotted when I first arrived on Erebus. "Stop the vehicle!" I shouted. The driver obeyed but followed with the expected 'what for?' to which I did not answer. "I'm stepping out. Tell Sergeant Kronnin he's in charge until I get back."

"But…where are you going Commissar?" asked the vox operator.

"Hopefully, to finally get some answers," I replied. I wish I had a better explanation but anything more would just prompt more questions or make me seem like I was off my rocker, which at that point I should have seriously considered. Thankfully, the Commissar's cap meant I didn't have to explain anything to them but I knew that if I came back empty handed I would probably be explaining my actions to Cain and Broklaw later. I popped open the rear hatch and raced off in pursuit of the creature I saw.

Looking back, it was incredibly foolish of me to give after a small animal through ruined alleyways. If I had run headlong into an Eldar ambush party I would have been obliterated faster than gaunt on the receiving end of a meltagun. Somehow, I managed to keep the creature in my sight as it bounded over a rock pile but then lost it when it scampered up a flight of stairs into a building. I was led into a neighbouring apartment hub building, very much like the ones the Eldar were hiding in including the massive Navy-designed and installed skylight that let the light in straight through all twenty some-odd floors. I slowed my pace once inside, taking out my laspistol as I approached the giant hole in the floor ahead of me. Judging by how contained the damage was, it was more likely caused by a crashing airship than a bomb or shipboard cannon. The rest of the building was in as much disarray as one would expect from a former warzone. Broken doors and shattered walls lined narrow corridors. There was very little light thanks to the lack of power but the occasional leftover portable luminator provided pockets of visibility. Signs of the civil war were still present as I walked past long-forgotten ammunition boxes, fallen weapons, and broken pieces of armour or equipment. There were even bodies of rebels and soldiers exactly where they had fallen during the war; the toxic atmosphere, interestingly enough, inhibiting decomposition and preserving the bodies as if they had died only moments ago. I spent several minutes walking through the halls in hopes of picking up the animal's trail or finding something that would keep this insane detour from being a complete waste of time.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement in the shadows. It was fast and small so it might have been my mystery animal. Unfortunately, with some many branching corridors and alternate passageways through broken walls, if I lost sight of it again I would lose it for good, so I raced as fast as I could. I lucked out as the critter kept running down long, straight corridors…until it hopped through a hole in the wall into an apartment unit. The corridor I was in ran along the outer perimeter so my prey had hopefully cornered itself. Still, I exercised caution as I approached the slightly ajar apartment door, keeping my laspistol levelled and my shock maul in hand. Just as I reached the door, I noticed some of the dust on the ground had been disturbed – somebody had been here and recently. Unfortunately, that meant if somebody was still on the other side, I was unlikely to get the drop on them. Waiting them out was not an option either so I had no choice but to move in quickly and pray I don't run headlong into a bullet-storm.

Despite my best efforts, the person on the other side of the door still got the drop on me; quite literally in fact as the person had hid over the doorway and the second I stepped in, fell onto me like a raptor. Predictably, my assailant immediately went for my gun hand, seizing control of it and slamming my hand into door frame to knock the gun loose. Instead of trying to fight it, I used the distraction to elbow the person off of me before spinning about and bringing my shock maul into play. My assailant was agile, though, ducking under my first swing and striking me with two quick punches to the gut and kidney. I tried to recover with a backhand swing but my opponent moved within my reach, blocking me at my forearm before punching my elbow. The impact must have struck a nerve because my whole arm seized up and lose its grip on the shock maul.

Whoever I was fighting, I had long since realized it wasn't Kael but the poor lighting and my frantic effort to keep him at bay kept me from getting a good look. I used my good arm to block a follow-up kick and then my shoulder into him in order to get a comfortable distance between us. That was when I managed to get a half-decent look and noted two things: firstly, it was actually a woman, not a man; and secondly, she was wearing a cloak, which made it hard in the dim light to gauge her movements. The tingling sensation in my left arm was fading so I was able to properly defend myself when she struck at me. I blocked a rapid series of jabs, missing only a couple of gut strikes, before parrying a right cross and countering with a quick kick to the side of her knee. The hit disrupted her balance, giving me an opening to deliver a solid punch to the face (which I couldn't make out due to the hood and low-lighting).

"Okay, you're coming with me," I said. My punch had knocked her into the wall which she was now using for support. I had hoped it meant that she could take punches about as well as she could throw them.

Turns out I was mistaken and she had a lot more fight left in her. I was able to narrowly avoid a sudden snap kick counter-attack but was less fortunate with the follow-up roundhouse. She may not have been able to throw a punch but she could definitely deliver a kick. And while I was laying face-down in my blood and spittle, my assailant made a break for the door. I hate it when they make me run. With adrenaline numbing my pain, I scrambled back to my feet and took off after her. Somehow, I managed to keep pace with her but I wasn't gaining ground and since I didn't want to risk killing her, shooting her was out of the question. Luckily, she turned a corner and I noticed that the apartment ahead of me that she had just passed had a broken section of wall. Rather than continuing after her, I hopped through the opening and cut through the apartment. The short-cut shaved a meters off my trailing distance, putting me within reach of her. Or, more specifically, within reach of the black cloak that was trailing behind her. And just as I had hoped for, when I grabbed and pulled, the cloak was secured tight enough that her head snapped back like she caught a lasbolt between the eyes.

But before I could deliver a knockout blow, she suddenly rolled over and spun quickly on the ground to kick my legs out from under me. When I tried to get back up, she jumped onto my back, locking her arm around my neck in a sleeper-hold. When properly executed, a carotid restraint can render a person unconscious in about fifteen seconds. I had to think quickly, which wasn't easy considering my brain was about to become a blood-free zone. I drew my spare laspistol, flipped it around so I held it by the barrel, and clubbed my assailant on the noggin. It was most certainly not the most eloquent or Munitorium-approved method of utilizing a laspistol and any tech-priest would cringe at my blasphemous barbarism of technology but it got the job done. She hit the ground faster than a wailing greenhorn.

"You are one annoying bitch," I groaned as I got back to my feet. Unfortunately, other than lean against the wall I couldn't do much until the hallway stopped spinning. I was just about ready to haul my quarry to her feet when I heard a loud growl and the patter of tiny feet. The small little creature had returned with a vengeance, clearly bent on defending its master as it lunged at me with fangs bared. Instinctively, I threw an arm up to shield myself and the little bastard sunk its teeth into my sleeve, clamping down like a furry vice grip. Thankfully, the sleeve was thick enough that it should have been little more than nuisance but there's always a bit of panic involved when snarling beasts are playing tug of war with your arm. It wasn't a very large creature but it was heavy enough to cause me to stoop over as I struggled to free myself. It was then that I finally got a good look at the thing and noticed that, like most other living things on Erebus, it had bionic augmentations, which I had not noticed earlier as they blended in with its steel-grey fur. Along with a bionic eye, it had robotic legs on its left side along with a portion of its left chest wall. Thankfully, its jaw seemed to be all natural so it was just a matter of discouraging it from clinging. "Let go you stupid mutt!" I shouted as I tried to shake it off. "Fine…you asked for it!" Fed up with the mutt, I grabbed hold of my sleeve with my free hand and pulled with all my strength, lifting the creature of its feet and slamming it into the nearby wall. It let go with a yelp and then scampered off in a hurry, which I initially took as a good sign until I realized it only left because its master had also ran off.

By the time I realized this, my assailant was already at the far end of the corridor. With that much of a head start I had almost no hope of catching up to her. I say 'almost' because my only chance of catching up was to hope she was heading for the same exit that I came in through. Having spent a decent amount of time scouting the building before finally stumbling upon the assailant, I had a reasonable idea of the building's layout (assisted by the fact that most Mechanicus architects are a dreadfully uncreative lot). It consisted of a hub-design with square blocks of apartments arranged into larger blocks, which are further arranged into larger blocks, and so on and so forth. So rather than give chase right after her, I headed down the hall next to me that ran along the outer rim of the building. The structural damage meant that many apartments that were once separate were now continuous, allowing me to bypass corridors, jumping from one block of apartments to the next. Thus, while she was hopefully taking the hallways on a roundabout path, I was cutting through the apartments on an intercept course. Of course, I would be quite the fool if she had simply taken another exit or just hid in one of the numerous apartments but I counted on the dose of pistol-to-head to dull her sense of judgment.

It was strange; on any other day, I probably would've pursued as usual and eventually resign to the fact that I could not catch up. I was a very determined individual but one-in-a-million chances weren't usually my thing unless my life was on the line (then, in one man's famous words, 'any chance was better than no chance'). Perhaps it was just the thought of Kael that was pushing me to give it everything I had - the thought that he would have a good chuckle about this afterwards if I let this opportunity slip through my fingers. I would do anything to wipe that smug smirk of his off his face. It enraged me…it pushed me faster and further than I ever thought I could possibly do. I even pictured her as Kael right up to the point where I dove headlong through a hole in the wall, slamming right into her as she came running across in the hall.

Alas, in my haste there was one small thing I had forgotten and that was the giant hole in the floor. More specifically, I neglected to realize that our point of interception and my subsequent crash-tackle, took both of us right over the edge. Thank the Emperor, though, the hole in the floor below us was significantly smaller and we landed just on the edge of it. And times-two lucky for me, my assailant took the brunt of the impact, leaving me only slightly dazed by the sudden drop. "Really need to watch that first step," I groaned as I propped myself up on my elbows. But just when I thought it was over, the ledge we were on started to creak loudly before swinging out like a trap door and dumping us to the next level down. Second time was a lot more painful and I was beginning to develop a severe disdain for gravity. At the very least, I didn't have to worry about dropping any further as it appeared we were now on the ground floor. I groaned and muttered a few choice Kriegan cusses as I slowly got to my knees, at which point I noticed my assailant was slowly regaining her wits as well. Seeing how I was fed up with playing 'Inquisitor and Heretic' with her, I just decked her in the face once more, knocking out whatever lights had remained on.

"I think that's enough 'playing hard to get' from you," I muttered without realizing that it would've been a more worthwhile thing to say when she was still conscious. Sore and weary, I took my sweet time in picking up my cap and dusting it off. Eventually, I decided that I should vox the rest of the team to get a status report and well as report my own findings. I hadn't received any messages from them so either things were going well or they couldn't get a signal to where I was, which was unlikely considering I didn't appear to be deep underground. "This is Commissar Abel, does anybody read me?" I called out over the vox.

"We can hear you," Cain's voice replied, though not through the vox but from several feet behind me. I quickly turned about to see the Commissar standing at the head of a cluster of people (of which the only one even resembling a proper soldier was Jurgen). The others wore non-standard garbs but were fairly well-armed; most likely hired guns. Judging by the defensive formation most of the others took, it was a safe bet that the most important people in the party were the two standing next to Cain, who stood in the center of the ring of guns. "I take it you got my message?"

"Uh…y-yeah, we did. The others are attacking an Eldar ambush party that appeared to be waiting for you," I answered.

"Yes, we saw that," Cain explained. "We were about to step right into it when you're troops opened fire. We decided to find an alternate route."

"Good…glad to be of assistance. Umm, and your friends are?"

"Oh right," Cain said as if he had somehow forgotten that there were about a dozen unfamiliar faces (in gasmasks) around him. For a brief moment, he looked to the blond-haired woman that stood next to him as if checking for permission from her, which she gave with a quick nod. "These are Inquisitors Vail and Hakim," he explained, first directing my attention to the woman beside him then to the large gentleman on his other side. "Inquisitors, this is my fellow Commissar – Ariel Abel."

"Yes, yes, that's all well and good," the larger Inquisitor, Hakim, interrupted, sounding terribly impatient and perturbed. "Would the commissar care to explain why she has punched out my subordinate?"

"Subordinate?" I repeated with a sudden, crushing weight of despair dropping onto my shoulder. I looked down to the woman I had clocked out, my first actual close-up look at the person. She was not Eldar…something I should have picked up on earlier and while her face was covered with a gasmask, there was a notably brass aquila pin on the load-bearing harness she wore. I had just chased down and pummelled an operative of the Holy Orders of the Emperor's Inquisition. There were not enough words in all the human tongues to describe how big a pile of shit I had just stepped in.


	7. SEVEN

**SEVEN**

On that day the tables were turned and I learned what a guardsman goes through when they stand before the regimental Commissar to receive their punishment. Fighting the fear of the unknown and the overwhelming sense of being powerless, while counting on the mercy of a system designed to operate without mercy. Inquisitors were the Commissars of the entire human race, charged with the task out rooting all forms of heresy, treason, rebellion, subterfuge, and anything else that they considered a threat to the Imperium. As an Inquisitor once said to me, 'Everybody is guilty of something. We need only to decide how to punish the person before us.' The woman I had beaten senseless was not just an operative working for the Holy Orders of the Emperor's Inquisition but just so happened to be one of Inquisitor Hakim's most valued assets in his retinue. For a brief moment, I was certain that the Inquisitor was simply going to shoot me right then and there. However, Cain, convinced the Inquisitor to postpone any decisions until we reached the safety of the Headquarters where a proper debriefing could be held. Were he any other Commissar, Hakim would have completely ignored him but the words of a Hero of the Imperium managed to prevail.

Unfortunately, while infinitely grateful that my potential death (if I was lucky) had been postponed, it made for one of the most agonizing rides back to base in my entire life. I remained absolutely silent, hoping that I would be able to avoid drawing any attention to myself. Hakim must have not wanted to let me out of his sights because, for whatever reason, he decided to ride in the same chimera as me, even going so far as to sit in the seat across from me. I think a part of him took some pleasure in watching me squirm…so to speak. There wasn't any squirming involved as I remained as silent and still as humanly possible with my eyes transfixed to the floor. I was afraid that if I even so much as made eye contact with the Inquisitor I would need a new pair of trousers.

It was eerily reminiscent of the one time I had managed to get my father truly angry with me. I was eight years old and I lost my father's Kriegan Knight's Cross when I accidentally dropped it down a storm drain. It was arguably my father's most treasured possession – awarded to him personally by the Governor of Krieg after he rallied the defenders during the siege of Fort Scimitar on Estivan II. My father might have been a hard-ass when he was with his regiment but when we were together he displayed compassion and caring, a side of him that I was certain that only my mother and I ever saw. But on that day I witness the full potential of my father's anger. And yet, he never raised his voice once; he simply stared straight through me, searing his emotions into my mind. That look was worse than any words he could have spoken. He said nothing to me for a week. During that time it I didn't exist to him. No acknowledgement of my presence, no emotion, nothing. When the time you had to spend with your father was measured in days, losing a week was an unending nightmare. He forgave me and returned to his usual self just before he redeployed and I spent the interim on a letter-writing campaign to the Governor in hopes of getting a replacement medal for my father. I did eventually get a replacement…almost ten years later and seven years too late. It sits on my mantle with all my other memorable odds and ends nestled between a holopict of my daughter and an unexploded bolter round that was removed from my hip.

But back to the near pants-wetting terror that I was currently in, the all-consuming silence inside the chimera was burning years off my lifespan. It was strange that what I wanted the most was also partly what I dreaded the most. The fear of the unknown was arguably worse than the potential death sentence from the man sitting two feet away from me. And I feared that at a drop of a hat, he could draw his sidearm and put a round between my eyes and everybody else in the chimera would be forced to just sit back and hope my brains didn't stain their coats.

Cain and Vail rode in another chimera and when I finally stepped out of mine, now back at headquarters, the two of them were waiting for me. When the Inquisitors' entourage began unloading from the other chimeras, I noticed that many of them were walking wounded. It appeared as though Cain had, by far, the most eventful day out of everybody in the regiment. Some people have all the luck.

"Come along, we have much to discuss," Vail said. I wasn't certain if that was meant for me specifically but it did not stop my paranoid mind from assuming the worse (which, in hindsight, would have been preferable). The Inquisitors went ahead while Cain lingered behind and walked with me behind them.

"You certainly know how to make a first impression," Cain said quietly. "At least you didn't throw up on his shoes." Bad first impressions have been a running trend in my life, from barfing on Cain's boots all the way along to getting caught without any pants on by Lord Inquisitor Langley. And by the Golden Throne, he has never, ever, let me live that down.

Despite an overwhelming desire to say something along the lines of 'please kill me' I kept silent and followed along. Whining was not very dignified, especially for a commissar and I was fairly certain that Cain was already sympathetic to my plight. I would not have been surprised if he spent the ride back to base with Inquisitor Vail pleading my case, if only to avoid the considerable amount of paperwork that would result from my execution or whatever 'worse-than-death' fate the Inquisitors saw fit to unleash upon me. To be honest, death by firing squad was probably the best death sentence I could receive. One does not fully understand the phrase 'a fate worse than death' until they've been given the field primer on the myriad of punishments an Inquisitor had at their disposal – suicide squads are a favourite ploy for most Inquisitors

Eventually, I was led to one of the rooms we used for mission briefings and meetings, which wasn't too surprising since it was chosen for being one of the most secure rooms in a building that had more holes than intact walls. And like a naughty juvie, I was told to wait outside while the grown-ups went in to talk. Thankfully, I did not have to wait alone as Broklaw must have been informed what had transpired. I was only pacing outside in the hall for a few minutes before the Major arrived. He said he was to speak with the Inquisitors but I suspected his real concern was focused on someone else entirely.

"Are you okay? You look a bit…um, ruffled," he asked. It was kind of cute the way he tried to mask his concern with a more professional undertone. After getting kicked in the head and falling two stories, I did look like a mess but that obviously wasn't what he was worried about. I could have used a reassuring hug at that moment but professional etiquette dictated otherwise so I simply tried to hide my worry as best I could, which probably didn't fool Broklaw.

"Fine…for the time being at least," I said dishearteningly.

"So what happened exactly? Cain told me a bit but he didn't have all the details."

"I chased this stupid little critter and it led me to what I thought was an Eldar scout. With all the fighting and the darkness I couldn't make out if it was human or not. And she attacked me first so I just went on the assumption that she was an enemy."

"Well, Miss Vail isn't the unreasonable type so she might let it slide," Broklaw said to try and reassure me.

"It's not Vail that's pissed, it's the other one; that Hakim guy."

"There's two?"

"As if one Inquisitor wasn't worrying enough," I muttered. There was a brief silence and I could hear muffled talks from the other side of the door. I was tempted to press my ear to the door to try and listen in but I was already in hot water with the Inquisitors and wasn't certain if I should risk making it worse.

"Still, if she did attack you first then I see no fault in what you did. There's no reason for an Inquisitor to punish you…unless he's some sort of vindictive bastard."

"Not helping Ruput," I growled.

"Sorry."

"So…I take it you've worked with this Vail woman before?" I asked after another prolonged silence. I didn't expect to get much of an answer, unfortunately. Any dealings with the Inquisition would be strictly classified

"The regiment has had dealings with her in the past but I've only met her briefly. If you want to know more you're better off asking Cain. They've worked…um, closely in the past."

"Oh really?" I replied a little surprised. I had no idea that Cain had any sort of clout with the Inquisition or perhaps it was more with that Inquisitor in particular. I couldn't help but wonder just how 'closely' they've worked together. Obviously I didn't say anything; it would be rude to speculate about such things when they involved colleagues (and the Inquisition) but it didn't seem too unreasonable. Cain, after all, was in the same boat as I was when it came to the limitations of personal relationships due to our duties and constant travel. But perhaps I was just over-thinking things.

After several more minutes of waiting outside, which felt more like several lifetimes, the door to the room opened and out stepped Commissar Cain. Given that he did not have the expression of a man about to deliver grim news, my spirits immediately raised; an optimism that was soon validated.

"Inquisitor Hakim is still a bit sour but he's in a better mood now than he was before," Cain reported with a hint of relief. "I think he's more annoyed that his star pupil got walloped by a junior commissar than anything else. Plus, his surly temper had rightfully earned him a bit of a reputation for not playing well with others. Anyways, the Inquisitors do have some things they want to discuss with you Abel." Alas, Broklaw was not invited to join the discussion so we had to part ways. I could imagine his frustration about being kept in the dark but Cain reassured me that he would be brought up to speed in due time. As with many things involving the Inquisition, they wanted to keep the number of participants involved to a minimum when possible.

Now that we were indoors, I was able to get a proper look at the two Inquisitors that sat across from me at the conference table. Inquisitor Vail was an attractive young woman with blonde hair and clean features that made her look as far from being an Inquisitor as humanly possible, which was apparently the whole point. She carried herself with a well-controlled confidence that made me want to be at ease but I couldn't shake the feeling that there was a danger lurking beneath the friendly exterior. Apparently, she was the type of Inquisitor that you didn't see coming until you were pulling the knife out of your chest. In a stark contrast, Inquisitor Hakim was a sizeable man, slightly larger than Cain, who looked to be in his late fifties were it not for the likelihood that he's had multiple juvenat treatments. He had a dark, tanned complexion that hinted at a desert world origin along with dark hair and a full beard that was just beginning to gray along the edges. He reminded me of some of my older, more jaded tutors from the schola – the kind that always looked down at you as though you're very presence was a huge disappointment delivered to them by the galaxy. And his expression was always grim, as if at any second he would break into a metaphor-laden soliloquy about how bleak and grim the universe was.

"Good evening Commissar Abel, I'm Inquisitor Amberley Vail of the Ordo Xenos," Vail said in a more formal introduction. "And this pouting gentleman over here is Inquisitor Abd-al-Aziz Hakim of the Ordo Hereticus." For a moment, Hakim glared at Miss Vail for her choice of adjective while I had to fight down the urge to smirk. "I would like to first state that we realize that you acted with the proper intention and given the circumstances, the outcome, while undesirable, was inevitable."

"She's just lucky she didn't accidentally kill her," Hakim scoffed bitterly, earning a brief, harsh glare from Vail. "And this wouldn't have happened if we had done things my way rather than skulking around in the shadows like a bunch of rats."

"Your plan involved turning this world into another warzone and the last thing we need is to add more chaos to the confusion," Vail retorted. "Maybe charging around like a mad grox works for you but I like my enemies to not know that I'm coming for them."

"We are Inquisitors – our chief weapon is fear."

"Well some of us prefer surprise," Vail replied. I got the distinct impression that the pair got along about as well as a tech-priest and a drunken barbarian.

"Don't forget ruthless efficiency," Cain chimed in.

"And your fanatical devotion to the Emperor," I added.

"She doesn't need your help," Hakim snapped at Cain and I.

"Listen Aziz," Vail interrupted. "We agreed that since we're dealing with Eldar, we do things my way. When we deal with heretics, then you can call the shots." I knew little about the Inquisition back then other than stories that bordered on rumours from other soldiers. Like the Commissariat, there was little hierarchical structure amongst Inquisitors and the decision as to who lead and who followed was usually something that had to be agreed upon by the Inquisitors involved. Hakim had more experience than Vail but his specialty was hunting down heretics and other internal threats, whereas Vail specialized in alien species. I still had no idea what they could possible need from me. The pair bickered back and forth for a little while longer but Vail eventually won out with repeated use of the 'I'm the xeno expert' card. "Back to the matter at hand. Commissar Abel, Commissar Cain tells us that you have a certain degree of…expertise when it comes to particularly troublesome Eldar. I believe he said you know him as 'Kael.'"

I probably should have seen that coming given that my relation with that Eldar was probably the only thing that set me apart from everybody else. "I wouldn't call it expertise but I've had more dealings with him than I would have liked."

"And you can confirm that he is, in fact, on Erebus?"

"Yes. He's already contacted me," I answered. I just then remembered the item that Kael had given me. Since I figured I would likely bump into Vail without advance notice, I had kept the item in my pocket. I pulled it out and slid it across the table to the Inquisitor. "In fact, he told me to give this to you and to tell you better luck next time."

Everybody except Vail had a puzzled look on his or her face; Vail, on the other hand, looked surprised for a moment though I wasn't certain if it was at the content of the message or just the message itself. Cain was the first to finally ask what the rest of us were thinking, "What exactly is that?"

"It's a part from an animus speculum," Vail answered as if those words meant something to us. Actually, it appeared to mean something to Hakim who now had a rather surprised look but Cain and I were still stumped. "The Culexus temple is not going to be happy to hear about this."

"The who in the what now?" I asked.

"The Culexus temple," Vail repeated. "They're part of the Officio Assassinorium. Assassins from the Culexus temple are specifically trained to target psykers."

"That's impossible," Hakim interjected. "Culexus assassins are psychic blanks. There's no way a warlock would have been able to stop one."

"He could easily have enlisted help," Vale said plainly. "I sent this after I read the report about Magnus Viridis. I had hoped that the years of inactivity would've left him complacent but…well, that's the third one so far."

"He's killed three agents of the Culexus temple? I find that hard to believe," Hakim said.

"He didn't kill them directly but I'm fairly certain that the first one didn't wander into an Ork encampment purely by coincidence." Most of what they said still didn't make much sense to me but I had quickly gathered the impression that killing off Culexus assassins was no easy feat for an Eldar psyker. I knew that Kael was dangerous but I had no idea of just how dangerous until that day. Vail brushed the broken optic piece to the side and slid a dataslate across the table for me to see. On it was a picture of an Eldar warlock, who I assumed was Kael. "Kyriese Myr'nel of the Craftworld Alaitoc. For over a millennium, he's been a thorn in the Ordo Xenos'side. He's assassinated key figures of the Imperium, incited riots and civil wars on hundreds of planets, undermined Imperial efforts in dozens of campaigns, and is even cited as being responsible for the near-destruction of an Astartes chapter. He's eluded Deathwatch kill-teams, assassins from every temple, and has slipped through blockades as if it had holes big enough to fly a cruiser through. He's repeatedly been one step ahead of our Inquisitors but now we've finally tracked him down to Erebus. But it's such a mess here that he'll easily slip off world if I don't find him soon…and yet he's not running, which begs the question what's so important here that he's willing to risk the Inquisition catching up to him. And that, Commissar Abel, brings us to you."

"Umm…how exactly?" I'll admit I had a bit of trouble following Vail because my attention was divided between her and the dataslate in front of me. Apparently Kael had a lengthy file with the Ordo Xenos and I was intrigued to get a glimpse into his past. Unfortunately, it wasn't a flattering picture and if the estimates were to be believed, Kael was responsible for a lot of deaths within the Imperium. One former Inquisitor who had spent most of his life chasing Kael described him as 'one of the most devious Eldar seers next to the infamous Eldrad Ulthran himself.'

"As I said, Cain told me you share a…sordid history with Kyriese. Very few people who've come in contact with him live after he's gotten what he needed from them. The fact that you two are once again on the same planet cannot be a coincidence," Vail continued to explain. "So you are going to help us apprehend him so we can figure out what he and his Eldar friends are up to."

A part of me wondered what Vail and Hakim had in mind that would succeed where so many others had failed. Another part still wondered how I somehow fit into all of this since it appeared that Vail had just as much information on Kael…er, Kyriese as I did. And a last part just wanted to tell them to get stuffed and leave me it out of it. I didn't know much about the Inquisition but I already knew I didn't want to get involved with them. Of course, being the dutiful Kriegan that I was, I simply accepted these new orders without question.

"What about Cain? He doesn't really know anything about Ka-…I mean Kyriese," I inquired.

"Oh, him? I like having him around," Vail said with an odd, playful undertone to her voice. "He's a very resourceful man. I'm sure it'll be useful to have a Hero of the Imperium around for whatever we might find." I suddenly got the impression she wanted him around for entirely different reasons but obviously I wasn't going to say anything. A Seal of the Inquisition was basically a pass to do whatever the frak you wanted to whoever you wanted and get away with it. They were the only people in the galaxy that could technically boss around Astartes without repercussion (not that it was a wise thing to do even if you were an Inquisitor).

I asked what my involvement would entail but Vail decided that before we continued, it would be prudent to let the Major in on the conversations. She was, after all, going to be commandeering a few of his commissars and troops for a while. As Broklaw entered, I flashed him a quick smile just to let him know that I wasn't going to be shipped off to a penal legion or something equally unpleasant.

"Might I ask where the Colonel is?" Vail asked after a quick round of introductions.

"She was injured in a recent skirmish with the Eldar. She's recovering in the medicae facility," Broklaw explained.

"Please pass on my regards the next time you see her," Vail replied. She then gestured with her hand for Hakim to begin the briefing.

"As you may have no doubt guessed by now, though the civil war may have ended in our victory, the situation on Erebus is still extremely volatile. The war itself drew concern from the Inquisition due to its sudden, violent outbreak. There are always tensions in the Adeptus Mechanicus but rarely does it break out into all-out war so quickly and with such coordination. Whole regiments of Skitarii suddenly turned traitor and attacked loyalist regiments far too quickly for it have been a naturally occurring schism. Clearly, a third party had been agitating the underlying tensions. Being the closest available Inquisitor, I began the investigation…though to be frank I had little idea what to expect. There was minimal intel and no clear signs as to who was the true culprit. At first I suspected Chaos but there have been no signs of traitor Legions or psychic disturbances; not even a desecrated shrine…unless you count the ones that had bombs dropped on them. An examination of the remains of numerous traitors showed no signs of genetic alterations or implantations so that ruled out a genestealer cult. Eventually, I caught a break - a captured heretic leader provided some valuable information after a thorough interrogation. He gave us a name - Merari."

"And who is this Merari?" I asked even though he probably would have explained anyways.

"As far as my investigation could determine, he didn't exist," Hakim explained. "After investigating thousands of people by that name, none demonstrated any semblance of importance, competence, or leadership to orchestrate a nutritious breakfast. It was an alias used by somebody to undermine the Mechanicus' control. Further investigation brought the name up many times but no prisoner we interrogated knew of him aside from a name and that he was apparently the mastermind behind the rebellion. My suspicions of Eldar involvement were confirmed when I happened upon Inquisitor Vail who came here tracking the Eldar Kyriese."

"You think Kyriese is Merari?" Broklaw asked.

"It fits his MO," Vail answered as she was the expert on aliens in the room. "He likes to sow dissent amongst populations and provoke unrest, then trigger an event to ignite a full-blown rebellion. By the time we're done putting down the rebellion, we're either in a weakened state or we've pulled resources from the real targets of interest. Most of the time, we don't realize there are Eldars involved until we're picking shurikens out of our hair."

Personally, I was a bit sceptical that Kael was behind the entire civil war on Erebus. It hadn't been that long, relatively speaking, since the end of the campaign on Magnus Viridis and according to Kael that little event was years in the planning. Kael was cautious and methodical and the tactics the Eldar were using didn't strike me as his style. Plus there was the matter of the blue Eldar soldiers who I suspected were the ones following Kael's orders. It couldn't have been a coincidence that Kael was here at the same time I was and a bunch of other Eldar but whatever his reasons were, he wasn't sharing them with me. And I knew that all I had were hunches and speculations, which carried about as much weight as the breath that carried them. Since I didn't want to come off as taking the side of an Eldar, which was borderline heresy, I opted to keep quiet.

"After linking up, Vail and I pooled our resources and began to search for potential Eldar bases of operations," Hakim continued on. "We found forward listening posts but could not find a main operational base. Somehow the Eldar were hiding the energy signatures of their equipment. We suspected, as did Commissar Cain, that the Eldar may have been using the high radiation fields of the old waste disposal facility in order to mask their presence. Suffice to say, we certainly surprised them when we came crashing through their front door."

"You only surprised them because they were too busy at the time tearing my men apart with shuriken cannons. Which, by the way, wouldn't have happened if you hadn't alerted everybody by trying to blow open that door with hand grenades," Cain remarked, clearly trying to keep his bitterness from slipping into his otherwise polite critique.

Hakim seemed to scoff at the notion. "The enemies of the Imperium were near. I was not about to risk them escaping us while we waited for your men to open the door from the other side."

"Those men died needlessly because of your impatience." I must admit my respect for Cain shot up several points that day. Very rarely did you see a mere commissar talking back to an Inquisitor and not get a lasbolt for his trouble. I imagine that Cain's aggravation stemmed not only from the senseless deaths of those under his command but the fact that he had come close to joining them. That is if the numerous slits through the tail of his great coat were from what I suspected they were from. I know almost being killed by another person's idiocy usually got my panties in a twist.

Thankfully, Inquisitor Vail was quick to put out the embers before things intensified. "Gentleman, please…you have more important things to do than lock horns," Vail interrupted, silencing both surprisingly quickly. She decided to continue the briefing as to avoid future disagreements. "Once we had routed the Eldar out, we recovered a cache of intel that links the Eldar to operations undertaken before the civil war's outbreak. Another troubling revelation was discovered when we were confronted by the Autarch, Junayd." I recognized the name immediately from my brief encounter with Kael. He had mentioned that Junayd was 'locked into his path,' which I'm guessing was an Eldar's fancy way of saying he was a stubborn jackass. If what Kael said to me was true, then Junayd was to be more of a concern than him.

"How exactly does this Junayd make things worse?" I asked, hoping to steer the focus away from Kael for a little while.

"He was the Eldar that attacked Kasteen and I back in the communication spire," Cain answered. "As an autarch, he's the military commander of the Eldar warhost on Erebus. A warlock would be something akin to a captain – an accomplished leader and tactician capable of leading small and mid-sized operations. An autarch is more like a general and they wouldn't send a general to handle something this small-scale unless it was important."

"On top of that, Junayd has commanded battles against Imperial forces on many occasions, so he's well versed in our tactics," Vail added. "According to the information we have on him, he likes to seize military tomes as personal trophies and supposedly even has a copy of the Codex Astartes."

"Sounds like he's going to be a serious problem," Broklaw remarked. Junayd was not the kind of opponent you wanted to go against in your first campaign as acting commanding officer. The Major was an experienced military leader but it paled in comparison to the volume of experience an Eldar commander had under his belt.

"Yes, but now that we know who we're up against, we can better prepare ourselves," Vail reassured him. "I'll have Mott send you a dataslate with all the information I have on this Eldar. He's experienced but he's a known quantity and we all know how old generals can get set in their ways. Plus…" she continued, pausing for a moment to glance over to Cain, "he seems to have taken an interest in Commissar Cain. Junayd has been known to single out competent opponents so we might be able to capitalize on that."

Unfortunately, as worried as I was about their focus on the Eldar, I didn't really have any means to try and dissuade them. Kael said the real danger lay with something worse but I shuddered to think what that could mean. Again, it was still entirely possible that he was trying to mislead me, hence why I did not bring any of it up. Even I had trouble believing that I was willing to believe Kael. "So what's our next move?" I asked.

"The intel we recovered has shed some light on the Eldar's past activities but there was nothing hinting at their current objectives," Hakim answered. "Our people are analyzing the data but it'll take time to see if there's anything more we can divulge from it. In the mean time, our best bet is to locate and apprehend the warlock Kyriese or the autarch Junayd."

"I see somebody's awfully ambitious," Cain commented. I shared in my fellow commissar's assessment. Arguably the two most important Eldar on Erebus were those two and they would know that better than anyone else. I did not see how the Inquisitors thought we would be able to accomplish so easily something that which so many have failed to do in the past. Kael had, by Vail's own words, been eluding the Ordo Xenos for decades; and Junayd was a military commander and unlikely to wander into the field without a heavy escort. Unfortunately, I had a bad feeling that Vail and Hakim had already taken these into account and the answer involved us. Cain, however, was already a step ahead of me and had put the pieces together. "You think the two of us are going to be able to lure them out into the open, don't you?"

"Oh I am most certainly counting on it," Hakim said with a devilish grin. He leaned against the table, interlinking his fingers into a bridge that he rested his chin on, a sort of smug look now upon his face. "A few days from now you two will take a small team to 'investigate' a series of ruins for us. We'll let slip a few poorly encrypted communications about the location and let Eldar pride take care of the rest."

"And if they just decide to send a bunch of snipers to wait for us?" I asked.

"Unlikely to be an issue," replied the Inquisitor dismissively. "As Vail said, Junayd will likely take a hands-on approach due to a vested interest in Commissar Cain. But even if he decides to send others, then Kyriese will likely show up to due to his keen interest in you…if what Commissar Cain has told us is to be believed."

Cain and I exchanged a brief glance. The look in his eyes told me he had the same apprehensions about this supposedly brilliant scheme as I did. Granted, running decoy was not an uncommon tactic but we were going up against experts with hit and run tactics. We were going to try and beat the masters at their own game instead of sticking to our tactics, our strengths. I was starting to feel sick to my stomach but we had about as much say in the matter as a guardsman did after Cain sentenced them to latrine duty. It's absolute shit but it's unfortunately now our shit. "How 'small' of a team exactly?" Cain asked. Since no Eldar would bite if we were leading a parade through town, our only support would be this 'small team,' which wasn't very reassuring to me.

"A single squad should be sufficient," Hakim answered as though he were pulling the number out of his pompous ass. "We'll disguise a team of our people and they'll accompany you on this-"

"I'm taking my own people," Cain interrupted, which clearly irked the Inquisitor. I get the impression that Hakim was accustomed to being treated with a slightly higher degree of respect than Cain was giving him.

"My people are better equipped for this mission," Hakim said. The Inquisitor did not appear to have a very high opinion of Imperial guardsmen. Granted, as Ordo Hereticus, he could call upon the militant arm of the Adepta Sororitas to provide the muscle he needed. And one can hardly consider it a choice to pick between flak armour and lasguns or power armour and bolters. What experience he had with guardsmen was likely not very favourable and probably involved a lot of excommunications.

"I have no doubt that they are but if I'm going to be sticking my neck out for this operation, I'd prefer for it be surrounded by people I know and trust."

I was worried that Hakim was about to pull out the Inquisitional trump card, as I shared similar sentiments as Cain, but just as Hakim was about to speak, Miss Vail interrupted him. "That is acceptable," she said calmly before looking over to Hakim. "The 597th is a highly skilled regiment. They will be sufficient. But I will still insist on sending one of our people with your team Cain."

"And who will that be?" Cain asked. He seemed less concerned with the request coming from Miss Vail or perhaps just because a small compromise was a pretty big victory when your opponent was the Inquisition.

"Her name is N'hila and she's the one that your colleague beat senseless," Vail answered.

"What makes her so important?" I asked

"Contrary to what your previous experience might suggest, she is actually a very competent operative," Vail explained to me. I learned some time later that the only reason I was able to win the fight was because she wasn't actually trying kill to me, just escape. I'm told that if she had aimed to kill me, I would never have seen her coming. And in hindsight, I can say without exaggeration that N'hila wouldn't have even broken a sweat killing me that day. "If we're to have any chance of taking down Kyriese, whoever takes him down is going to have to get in close. And Abel is likely the only human he'll allow to get close without raising his guard."

"Um, we've scuffled before and there is no way I'm good enough to get even a single hit in," I admitted without hesitation. Normally I'm not one to admit defeat so quickly but I knew I was no match for Kael's reflexes. The last time I tried to fight him he literally slapped me around the room.

"There's a shocker," Vail said sarcastically, stinging my pride ever so slightly. "N'hila is an assassin from the Callidus temple. She's going to take your place and should be able to take down Kyriese when the opportunity arises." Like all of the temples of the Offico Assassinorium, I only vaguely knew details of the Callidus temple. I had never seen one before but that's kind of the point since they're masters of disguises and the closest thing I knew to a shape-shifter within the mortal realm. Personally, I was a little sceptical that an assassin, even one whose sole purpose was to imitate others, would be able to deceive Kael. But, again, I had no say in the matter and both Inquisitors seemed to have confidence in this N'hila character. "We still need to brief her and thanks to your…initiative, she's still unconscious. We'll have to page you when she's up and about so you two can meet. She'll need to spend the next few days with you so she can better disguise herself as you."

"Oh lucky me," I murmured under my breath. Since there was little else to discuss after that point, the non-Inquisitors were dismissed. Once I was outside, I was able to properly express my sentiments for the situation with a quiet, exasperated sigh.

"My feelings exactly," Broklaw replied. "I have nothing against the Inquisition but…damn if things don't always get a million times more complicated when they show up."

"Things were already complicated," I groaned. "Apparently we're just not smart enough to realize it."

* * *

A twenty-eight year old agent of the Callidus temple, N'hila Hassac first caught Inquisitor Hakim's attention while he was investigating a heretical cult known as the Sons of Solar Temple. N'hila successfully infiltrated their ranks, assassinated the cult's leader, assumed his identity, and then convinced the entire cult to enter into a suicide pact. Very rarely in the history of the Inquisition have they been able to eliminate an entire heretical cult without having to fire a single shot. Unfortunately when the time came for me to find her I knew little about her and even less about the Callidus temple. I had few preconceptions to go on. Assassins are like any other breed of human in the galaxy – they come in every flavour under the rainbow. Hakim told me that I could probably find her at the medicae facility. However, when I arrived I was surprised to discover that she had already checked herself out; though not as surprised as the orderlies who didn't even notice she was gone until I pointed it out. At least it explained why Hakim didn't sound optimistic when he told me to 'try checking the med-bay.' His other suggestion would be a nearby library, which was convenient since we didn't have one, or the nearest shrine, which was less convenient since we had several. There was the shrine in the barracks, the tech-priest's shrine in the motor pool, the officer's shrine, the old worker's shrine in the back, one in the basement area, and the one our regiment's priests set up because 'there is insufficient faith in this area,' as if there was some sort of spiritual energy in the building that needed to be balanced out with the extra shrine. Of course, priest that told me that was the same one that once told me to move my couch two feet to the left because it prevented the Emperor's light from properly radiating into my room. He didn't laugh when I suggested getting a signal booster from the tech-priests. I think they get their sense of humour surgically removed when they become ordained as priests. Except maybe for Magnusson, but he was a bit on the crazy side. And not in the 'ha ha, you're so crazy' manner but in the 'we, the Inquisition do hereby declare…'

It shouldn't have come as a surprise that the shadowy assassin was at the remote, isolated shrine deep in the bowels of the facility. I spent a few minutes fumbling in the dark before finding a hand-held luminator to light my path. Once I wasn't walking into low-hanging pipes or tripping on narrow doorways, it was fairly easy to find my way to the shrine. It helped that it was the only room down there that had its own light source so it was as simple as walking towards the light (something that I spent most of my career doing the opposite).

There was only one person in the room – a young woman kneeling before the shrine adorned with candles and tasteful depictions of the Emperor during the Great Crusade. I figured it was the woman I was looking for since she had a piece of gauze bandaged around her head in spot where I had bashed her with my laspistol. Only a few candles provided illumination, making it hard to make out her details other than her a ragged mop of short, red hair, and the tight bodyglove that she wore. I felt a little awkward interrupting somebody while they were in the middle of prayer so I wanted a few minutes figuring she'd be finished soon. However, that was merely a reasonable estimate and I had forgotten at the time, reason and faith don't necessarily see eye to eye. After five minutes I was still standing a few feet behind the woman and she hadn't so much as budged an inch. I finally just cleared my throat in order to make my presence known though she later told me that she had known I was standing there the whole time and was wondering what was taking me so long to say something.

"Your hat," she finally spoke, peering over her shoulder.

"Excuse me?" I replied a bit confused.

"You are in His presence. Your hat is disrespectful."

I resisted the urge to vocalize my annoyance with a growl and instead just took my hat off. It was the faster solution compared to arguing with an Emperor-botherer about the merits of headgear. "You're N'hila, correct?" I said

"Yes."

"Did Hakim explain the mission to you?"

"Yes."

"Are you finished here?"

"Yes."

"You don't talk much, do you?"

"No."

I let out a quiet sigh. On the bright side, if she was going to be hanging around me for a few days, at least she wouldn't be too much of a nuisance. "So…what exactly do we need to do?" I asked, trying to phrase my uncertainty as best I could. My assignment was unlike anything I had done before so I wasn't certain what may need to be done in order to facilitate this 'character profiling.'

"You live. I watch," she explained rather plainly. It seemed the concept of affect was foreign to her. She always spoke with a slightly monotonous tone when not in character. It was as if she had to reserve all emotional energy for her work.

"Okay then," I replied, still a bit confused. I reminded myself that I knew little of her world and likely never would so it was better if I just went along with things and put my trust in her abilities. As she got up, I noticed that the strange, furry mound next to her began to move as well. It took a moment for me to realize that the furry mound was actually the furry critter that I had chased through the streets. And, as it turned out, it wasn't just 'canine-like,' it actually was a dog. Apparently I couldn't recognize a dog when I saw one but in my defence, I had never actually seen one save for a few holovids. It growled at me at first but N'hila snapped her fingers and went 'shh,' which promptly returned the dog to a docile state. "Does he have a name?" I asked curiously.

"Mutt," she said. For somebody who operated as a spy for the Inquisition, she wasn't very creative. Or at least that's what I thought at first. As it turned out, Mutt was the only name the dog would respond to for whatever inane reason. Mutt reminded a fair bit of Jurgen – always faithful, always presents, always ready to charge off against the enemy. The main differences were that Mutt smelled better while Jurgen had opposable thumbs.

And so we headed on our way out. Wherever I went, N'hila and her faithful pooch were right on my heel. Since I wasn't allowed to say that she was on loan from the Inquisition, I had to make up the excuse that she was a civilian with vital tactical information that I had to safe-guard. Thankfully, only a handful of soldiers and officers inquired about her, at which point I told them the lie and said any further information was above their pay-grade. It always amazed me the things I could get away with just because of the hat I wore. It was fortunate that I had a mentor that taught me the virtue of not abusing the trust that my position bestowed upon me. The rest of the day (or at least I think it was the rest since it was hard to gauge by the limited sunlight and the fact that days on Erebus were terribly long) was spent doing routine business, which was a nice change of pace. I met with Cain to discuss some disciplinary reports as well as we managed to squeeze in a few hours of sparring. Ever since Magnus Viridis, I had been practicing my swordsmanship with Cain. And I can say with pride that since we started our practice routine I had managed to double the time it takes for Cain to beat – it was now almost eight whole seconds.

Afterwards I met with Broklaw. Again, nothing terribly interesting – just simple routine talks between commissar and commanding officer (or acting commanding officer in this case). Having somebody watching my conversations did make me feel a little self-conscious. Despite Broklaw and I both agreeing that our responsibilities and duties outweighed our personal feelings, we did still share a rather candid professional relationship and it likely would have raised some eyebrows amongst commissars or officers from other regiments. Having somebody from the Inquisition watching and analyzing my every move worried me. I did not wish to make an inappropriate gesture or say the wrong thing and wake up the next morning in an Inquisitional torture device. I believe Broklaw had similar apprehensions judging by how often he glanced over to where N'hila was sitting a few feet away at the side of the room. But despite our worries, she said absolutely nothing during the entire meeting. In fact, she didn't say a word unless I spoke to her, to which her answers were usually limited to a couple of words or less.

A real discussion between N'hila and I didn't come up until that night when I returned to my quarters to get some rest. "I'm guessing your orders including crashing at my place," I said aloud as I headed inside. She made her usual affirmative utterance and followed me in. Mutt made himself right at home, bounding along to a nearby easy-chair and plopped down onto it. "I'm afraid I don't exactly have a spare bed but that couch over there is probably more comfortable than what most of the troops are sleeping on."

"May I ask you something personal commissar?" N'hila spoke up.

"Uh…sure, of course," I replied, taken back by the sheer number of words in the sentence she used. There were even three-syllable words in there.

"You and the Major are…close, correct?"

"I suppose you could say that," I replied as I hung up my coat and weapon belt. "But you can say that about a lot senior officers and their commissars."

"Have you two had sex?"

That question prompted my whole body to suddenly tense up, causing my arm to accidentally knock my hat right off. I frantically tried to catch it but wound up bouncing it a few times into the air before finally getting a grip on it. "Th-that's a rather inappropriate thing to ask!"

"I am merely trying to under the inter-personal dynamics here. I've rarely worked with others before Hakim. I know little of how the Guard operates."

"W-well, it's nothing like that. I'm a commissar. I have to remain objective when watching over the regiment."

"My apologies," she said. "During you're meeting, you two were very focused on each other, only breaking contact when you looked over to me as though I were…intruding."

"Well you're reading into it too much," I argued perhaps a bit too earnestly. "I'm going to sleep." I said my goodnight and headed into the bedroom to get some rest. Since the day cycle was very peculiar on Erebus, I would probably wake up some time in the very early morning. Thankfully, I was more used to the soldier's sleep cycle, which was 'sleep whenever you could.' The welcoming comfort of a soft bed reminded me of my care-free days back at the schola. I figured I would be out as soon as I shut my eyes and that likely would have been the case had I not heard the door suddenly open once more. I thought I was imagining things at first but then I heard a heavy thump sound and I immediately reached to turn on a nearby luminator orb. N'hila had pulled in a chair and was sitting across the room just staring at me as she had been the entire day. "What are you doing?" I muttered.

"My job."

"You have to watch me while I sleep as well?"

"Yes."

"Can't convince you otherwise?"

"No."

"Frak…" I groaned.

"I'll be quiet," she insisted, not that I was worried about potential noise. With a frustrated groan, I turned off the luminator orb and tried to get some sleep. I hadn't had a night that restless since my first time in the field with a regiment when I was a cadet and I suddenly realized I was literally the only (human) woman on the planet.

**Note from the Author:**

Guess what? Commissar Abel turns one year old on October 16th! I'd like to do something for her birthday but my inability to stick to a schedule means I'll never get something done in time. So instead, I'll be releasing the first _Inquisitor _Abel short on October 31st. Now hopefully I can stick to this schedule...


	8. EIGHT

_**Note/Apology from the Author:**_

_Yes, I realize it's been an excessively long time since I last updated but I have not abandoned this project. Writer's block and health issues made writing difficult and it took this long to get the words to flow properly. Trying to force words onto the page only ever results in garbage, which my editor can rightly attest to. Rest assured, I think the worst of my writer's block has passed._

**EIGHT**

Normally sleeping around other people wasn't an issue for me, or for anybody else who served in the Imperial Guard. The rule was to always get sleep whenever and wherever possible. Likewise, sleeping under a watchful eye was nothing new either as Watz and Heilmit often took turns standing watch over me during campaigns. In those cases the watchful eye was keeping you safe and did not fill you with the sense of being a lab specimen examined under a microscope. However, during the first night the thought of a N'hila sitting across from me in an easy chair, watching my every motion with her sharp, amber eyes, was enough to make me dread the thought of going to sleep. The eerie sense that Abaddon himself was going to tuck me in would have probably made for a pleasant change in my mood.

Our first day together had already left me hoping for some means to accelerate the next forty-some-odd hours. It wasn't that N'hila was bothersome or even very intrusive but again I felt as though I were some laboratory animal being studied by some stuffy old scientist with a porridge-bowl haircut, who found everything to be terribly fascinating. As if being scrutinized by Commissar Cain on a daily basis wasn't enough to give a girl a case of 'overly-critical introspective,' otherwise known as 'hopeless newbie' syndrome. But what I awoke to made me give second thought to my situation. You see I had fully expected to awake the next morning with N'hila's eyes having bored a hole through me. I was expecting her to still be cemented to her chair, gazing through me like some kind of life size mannequin.

I awoke suddenly to a strange, heavy sensation upon my chest and a strange odour tickling my nostrils. I became alert very quickly as heaviness in my chest usually meant the air filters had broken down and the oxygen levels had dropped to critically low levels (it's a product of having been raised on a planet with a toxic atmosphere). What I found instead of critically low levels of breathable air was critical high levels of canine hair. A certain bionically-augmented mutt had decided to transplant itself onto my chest and had made a pillow out of my naturally provided ones. For a brief moment, I did not want to disturb the animal that slumbered so peacefully upon me but then I caught another face-full of his breath. His breath hit me like a sack of mouldy cheese and rotted soylent viridians, and that sentiment of "letting sleeping dogs lie" disappeared faster than my appetite. Once I had shooed Mutt off of me, I glanced up to where N'hila had been sitting had been sitting and realized that she was sound asleep in her chair. And it wasn't just the subtle nodding off that happens when forced to stay in one spot for several hours through the night but a total, catastrophic collapse of consciousness as she sat slumped in the chair, arms dangling over the armrests, and head flopped back with mouth agape…snoring.

That's correct – she was snoring. It is a fact I write down with great caution and hopeful prayers that she doesn't happen across it and repays me by smothering me with a pillow in the middle of the night.

In that moment, instead of seeing a piercing, scrutinizing eye that watched every iota of movement I made but an aspiring servant of the Imperium whose spirit was always willing even when the body wasn't; like a juvie trying to stay up the night before Emperor's Day in hopes of catching a glimpse of the mythical Golden Light that delivered gifts to the faithful boys and girls of the Imperium. Emperor knows how many nights I worked myself into a coma trying to stay in the good books of a tutor or a particular mentor with high standards. I imagined the Inquisition had even higher standards than the ones I had been subjected to for years and combined with the earlier embarrassment of being taken down by a junior commissar and I suspected that N'hila was working in overdrive to reclaim her tarnished reputation. Perhaps, I thought, we had gotten off on the wrong foot and I should not be fussing so much over a sense of personal comfort. We were, after all, on the same side so I decided that starting today I would take a more active approach in helping N'hila achieve her goals.

But first I would get some breakfast and I quietly slipped into some proper clothes and out the door. I knew she would be perturbed with me giving her the slip since she was supposed to be watching me at all times but I figured if it had been so important then she should have simply gone to sleep instead of trying to watch me through the night; her wake-up would be a little lesson in foresight. And when N'hila eventually caught up to me in the mess hall about an hour later she was understandable annoyed with me. Normally the straight-faced assassin was as difficult to read as a blank slate in a blinding sandstorm but panic and haste had stripped a few layers off her shroud of mystery. She probably didn't enjoy the fact that my response to her apparent indignation was a dismissive chuckle. Despite coming off as cold and aloof, however, N'hila's mood improved substantially once she had a hot breakfast and a cup of tanna. I was a bit surprised at first at how casually he drank the particular beverage, which is rarely enjoyed by people other than Valhallans, but N'hila could apparently stomach anything that wasn't labelled with biohazard warnings. Perhaps she had her taste buds removed or had special implants because she didn't even flinch when she drank the tanna; she remained, as she often was, expressionless.

"So how long have you been working for Inquisitor Hakim?" I asked idly between sips of recaf.

"Eight years," she answered tersely.

"And how offended do you think he'd be if I told him that this plan is completely asinine?"

After a brief, contemplative pause, N'hila replied in her usual single-worded fashion, "Extremely."

Understatement of the day to say that hers was not the answer I had been hoping for. Nobody enjoys having tactical flaws pointed out to them by people a few thousand pay grades lower than them. It'd be like Herman von Strab criticizing General Creed (for those of you lacking in history, von Strab's nigh-legendary ineptitude almost single-handedly signed the planet of Armaggedon over to the Orks). I was still contemplating alternatives as I dragged half-eaten soylent viridians across my plate in little circles when I noticed that N'hila had been staring at me curiously for the past few minutes.

"Why?" she asked once she saw that I had taken notice of her again.

Once again I had to play the delicate waltz of voicing my concern without sounding a like a xeno collaborator. I figured to go with the idiom 'less is more'. "Kael was smart enough to evade Culexus assassins. What advantage would you have?" The assassin answered by simply pointing at me but that wasn't enough to put my mind at ease. My experiences alone taught me that Kael didn't take chances even when it came to dealing with me. The last time we met on Magnus Viridis, even though I was immobilized from a broken back, he still disarmed my pistol as a precaution. I'd say Kael was borderline paranoid were it not for the fact we truly were out to get him. "If you miss, he'll fry you in an instant."

"I don't miss," she replied with cold confidence. I wished I could display such steely confidence when faced with the possibility of being barbequed by warpfire but I tended to lean to the side of pessimism. I always kept hoping that if I remained pessimistic, I would one day be pleasantly surprised. That day has still yet to come.

I was still unconvinced of the soundness of the Inquisitors' plans but it appeared that I was in the minority. Though I suspected Cain had similar doubts I didn't bother asking him about him. Like myself, he had no interest in spending the rest of his military career attached to a suicide squad and was thusly forced to play along with the Inquisitions plans regardless of how unsound they might be. Besides, I saw little of Cain for the next few days other than brief glimpses as we passed in the halls. And even then only cordial greetings could be exchanged before he was forced to hurry on his way. I rarely saw him moving with such haste unless it involved incoming artillery and I couldn't tell if he was heading toward something or away but whatever the reason, it definitely put promethium in his tanks.

After finishing some paperwork on Captain Pragg's latest round of uniform infractions, most of which were dealt with additional guard duty. Oddly enough, given the frequency of Pragg's lists of infractions, the average number of guard duty shifts per soldier within his company was fairly consistent as soldiers who got penalized one week often got shifts pulled to penalize other members the following week. After a few years, I noticed that certain male-female pairings were routinely showing up together on the infractions list and thus getting extra guard duty shifts together. I never mentioned it to Pragg, of course, since I wanted to see if he would ever realize it on his own. I wasn't about to penalize soldiers who were clever enough to game Pragg's method of instilling discipline; Emperor knows that our soldiers needed a bit of reprieve in a galaxy full of a trillion and one horrors all ready to shuffle you off your mortal coil. Plus I suspected this practice had been going on since the regiment became a mixed unit (and stopped trying to kill each other) so if Cain never voiced a concern then why should I?

After I had finished with my day's allotment of paperwork and a quick dinner with the Major and other officers, I retreated to the seclusion of the empty storage bay I had been using to practice my swordsmanship. Without Cain I was left to run through the routines on my own, which is something I had always found to be a bit dull. It lacked the same sense of satisfaction as target practice but it was practice nonetheless and it was the only way I was going to stop being a liability in close-quarters. My Kriegan-born sense of discipline and duty refused to allow me to become complacent – I had to address my vulnerabilities as best I could if I were to lead from the front like a proper commissar should. With sword in hand, I went through the motions, swinging and stabbing at invisible foes while parrying non-existent attacks. I'll admit that in my younger years I probably looked less like a competent swordsman and more like a child who had just received his first training sword. Close-combat training had never been my strong suit back when I was at the schola and quite often I used whatever excuse I could to get exempted from the lessons. My barely-passing grades in the combat disciplines was what eventually led to the Munitorum deciding I was better suited for desk work than a frontline regiment; that or they realized assigning me to a frontline regiment would have been about as effective as assigning a copy of the _Guardsman's Uplifting Primer_ with an angry face scrawled on the front.

Despite the awkwardness, I had decided to continue with the practice regimen because I figured that it would be beneficial for N'hila to see how I move and carry myself. My practice session with Cain the day before wouldn't have been as effective since I spent most of it picking my arse off the floor.

After a few minutes I was able to get immersed in the motions and rhythm of my routines. Abruptly, however, that immersion was interrupted when my blade was intercepted by another. I had almost forgotten for a blissful moment that I still had an audience so I was a little surprised to see N'hila standing before me with a rapier in hand. I smirked slightly as I stepped back and took a defensive stance, gripping the blade before me firmly in both hands. Judging from N'hila's stance, with the blade held out far ahead of her with a slight upward angle, she was a fencer. Her rapier looked quite fragile with its long, thin blade barely possessing any weight to it but I suspected (and rightly so) that its true strength laid elsewhere. She started off slowly, striking with a series of simple thrusts and slashes that I was able to fend off easily. I returned the gesture in kind as we gentle prodded at each other's defences, watching how the other reacts to different tactics. With her blade extended, it was difficult for me to step into a swing without exposing myself to a quick counter-attack. However, my chainsword's weight advantage meant parrying attacks was like taking a sledgehammer to a wooden birdhouse and she had to be selective in when she struck. These facts made for a very slow start; I was hesitant to commit to an attack and she fought opportunistically. While I had experience fighting xenos (primarily Orks) with a blade, I hadn't fought many human opponents since my days in the schola. She was, however, an interesting opponent to face – a stark contrast to the heavy-handed styles common with chainsword-wielders. The grace and finesse of her style was more reminiscent to those of the Eldar. After a few minutes, N'hila sped up her attacks and things became very difficult, very quickly. Her whisper-thin blade was hard to track at the higher speeds, becoming almost a blur until it clanged against the flat side of mine. She soon caught me with a feint, seemingly striking high and across but at the last second twisting her arm so her blade fell low and swept upwards. Were this a real fight, she likely would have scored a very painful, albeit non-lethal, hit. Instead the only casualty was my dignity as the tip of her blade caught the brim of my cap. As I had retreated hastily to avoid acquiring a new scar to add to my collection, I failed to notice my departing headwear until it had flipped through the air and landed right in N'hila's awaiting hand.

"Oh…you'll pay for that," I growled. Just to add to the insult, N'hila donned my cap and beckoned for me to attack. If you're ever looking to piss off a commissar, messing with their hat ranks just below using their sash as a handkerchief. It was playing right into her hand, of course, but that didn't stop me from launching a frenzied attack at her. With the exception of Khornate berserkers, fighting while angry is as universal a bad idea as denouncing the Emperor in front of an Ultramarine. I swung wildly at her, killing nothing except any sensibility I may have had left. With Eldar-like grace, N'hila danced around my clumsy swings with ease, occasionally taking a moment to swat me with the flat side of her blade just to antagonize me further. Finally, I simply got fed up with her constant mockery and charged for an all-out attack. I rushed her, aiming my swing at her sword rather than her body; my heavier chainsword knocked the flimsy rapier aside and I carried on into a shoulder check, taking both of us off our feet. "Ha! Got'cha!" I said triumphantly as I lay overtop of her with my chainsword held to her neck. Unflappable as always, however, N'hila merely directed my attention downward to the dagger she was now holding in her off-hand that was just shy of pressing against my lower chest and was angled up towards my heart. "Frak…"

* * *

As my long-time friend Taisto once said, the best way to get to know somebody is by fighting them. Despite my embarrassing performance, I was not discouraged to continue honing my skills with N'hila. We continued sparring for almost an hour afterwards plus we sparred a few more hours the following day. By that point, I had begun to enjoy N'hila's company in a twisted form of reverse-Stockholm's syndrome. At first I had convinced myself that if I were going to be stuck with her, I might as well make the most of it. However, by the end I enjoyed having the company of somebody not part of the Imperial Guard but also not a civilian. She still wasn't the best conversationalist but at least she never had the fear of insubordination (and a subsequent firing squad execution) holding her back.

We were having lunch and I was recounting my near-death experiences during the Liberation of Magnus Viridis when a runner stopped by our table. The messenger relayed instructions for N'hila to report to the briefing room. Given his non-Guardsman uniform, it was an easy guess the special occasion. "Off to hunt some xenos?" I asked rhetorically as N'hila rose from her seat.

"Correct," she answered curtly. "Gun," she then added. Since N'hila had to disguise herself as me, we needed to make it as authentic as possible. That, unfortunately, meant I had to hand over my prized laspistol as its absence would not go unnoticed by Kael. Though I rarely ever trusted my weapon to another person, especially after losing my eye, I had no choice if the mission was going to succeed.

"Take good care of her," I said as I unfastened my weapons belt and handed it over. N'hila merely nodded an acknowledgment before she headed on her way.

Now because N'hila was disguising herself as me for the mission, I was obviously meant to sit back at base jiggling my mask. However, given that I knew more about our target than everybody on the mission put together, I had no intention of sitting it out. I had already checked over the duty rosters and knew in advance which squad was being sent to accompany Commissar Cain. He had chosen the squad led by Sergeant Penlan, perhaps hoping that her penchant for turning her extreme bad luck into success would benefit the mission (though I doubt that Cain was the superstitious type). I had a narrow window of opportunity so the second that N'hila was gone, I hurried to the barracks.

"Sergeant Penlan, Trooper Walsh – I need a moment of your time," I called out once I had the aforementioned squad. I had arrived just in time as they were already finished gearing up and were about to head out to meet with Commissar Cain in the motor pool.

"What is it Commissar Abel?" Penlan asked as the two troopers came over. "I thought you'd be waiting in the motor pool with Commissar Cain."

"I don't have a lot of time to explain so here's the short of it – the 'Abel' you're meeting up with in the motor pool is actually an operative in disguise. I shall be disguising myself and taking Trooper Walsh's place in your squad."

"Does…Commissar Cain know about this?" Penlan asked with understandable confusion. The saying goes that a commissar only takes off their sash when they're buried so it was odd to have donning the garbs of a mere trooper. I assured her, however, that while Cain was not aware of my plan, I would accept full responsibility for any fallout that may incur. If everything went according to plan, however, nobody would even know I was present. In retrospect it was silly of me to think anything in the 597th ever went according to plan.

"He doesn't know and we're keeping this between us. If Cain has a problem with this I'll deal with it," I explained. "Trooper Walsh, you'll need to make yourself scarce for a while."

"As you wish Commissar," the trooper acknowledged. I chose to replace Trooper Walsh for the simple reason that we were about the same size and she was relatively new to the regiment. As perceptive as Cain was, I doubt he could recognize every trooper when wearing gasmasks so it was my best shot for going unnoticed.

As Walsh scurried off to hide under a rock somewhere, Penlan helped me quickly get into a Valhallan uniform. I needed a bit of help from the sergeant to get all the straps and buckles in order so I wouldn't be chastised by Commissar Cain for being poorly dressed. Once I was in complete Valhallan and fitted with my gasmask, I was able to blend in perfectly with the other Valhallan troopers. I must admit it was strange wearing the uniform of an infantryman and I was a bit unprepared for how warm it was. Even after only a few minutes, I missed the comforting feel of my commissarial greatcoat. For starters, my greatcoat had been tailored to my size as opposed to Imperial Guard uniforms which only came in two sizes – too small and too big. I knew I would have to rely on Kriegan discipline in order to not stand out sweating in my oversized uniform. Emperor willing, I wouldn't pass out from heat stroke during the mission. "Now remember Penlan, from now on I am Trooper Walsh for all intents and purposes; treat me as you would treat her. Is that understood?"

"Yes Commissar," Penlan nodded.

"Not Commisar, its Trooper Walsh," I corrected her.

Penlan was quick to catch on and adjusted her tone accordingly. "Okay…then get your arse in gear trooper! The Commissar is waiting on us," she ordered and hurried me along. Penlan had a rare opportunity where she could order around a commissar without repercussion and I suspected a part of her enjoyed it. Once I was properly dressed and equipped, we rejoined the rest of Penlan's squad and headed off to the motor pool to wait for Cain and the others.

* * *

Despite the troopers being on a need-to-know basis with regards to the plan, Cain's briefing was very open about the nature of our mission and our objectives. He likely realized that keeping the troopers in the dark would only hamper their effective if things went awry. It probably also helped to keep the troopers loyal since it showed that he cared enough about their well-being to be honest about what their risking their lives over. I kept quiet and in the back, simply nodding my head on cue and following the rest of the squad when we loaded into the chimera. N'hila was at the briefing as well and it was a very surreal experience to listen to another 'me' talking. It was like watching myself in a dream, though the sweltering heat of the Erebus midday was a constant reminder that I was indeed awake. N'hila didn't say much but whenever she spoke, she was spot-on in my little nuances and mannerisms. I never realized how much I used my hands to accentuate my speech until I watched her explaining our destination. Then again, most Kriegans talk a lot with their hands since we couldn't always use facial expressions and gasmasks tend to muffle one's tone.

Once the commissars had dispensed with the usual motivational prattle (which left me wondering if I had always sounded that preachy), we loaded into our vehicles and headed out. Cain, N'hila and their respective commissarial aides rode in Cain's Salamander while the rest of us piled into the comfortable and spacious Guardsman party bus. I remained at the front end of the chimera, pretending to be catching some rest while I eavesdropped on the conversation in the Salamander as I still had my commissar-issued comm-bead. Watz was his usual shining beacon of optimism, remarking at one point that we'd have better luck chasing daemons farts through the warp. Our destination was a ruined smelting facility a few kilometres away from our further listening post – far enough away to embolden the Eldar into coming to us but not far enough away that we couldn't hightail it back to base on foot if things got ugly. Despite the assurances of the Inquisitors I was still not convinced that Eldar pride would keep us from being turned into bloody confetti. Still, Commissar Cain was going along with the plan and I knew he wouldn't do that unless he had some faith in it. It was that or he was absolutely terrified of Miss Vail, which was something I had a hard time picturing at the time.

The ride had been going smoothly for a while or at least as smooth as one can expect considering we were driving through ruined cityscape that had more pockmarks than an adolescent's face. Given a chimera's average speed through rough terrain and recalling what I could from the map, our convoy (if one could consider two vehicles a convoy) was about half-way to our destination when it came to a very sudden and abrupt halt. My attempts to remain inconspicuous fell apart just as abruptly as the sudden stop threw my helmet-protected headed straight into the wall behind the driver's seat. On the bright side, my fellow passengers got a chuckle from the ensuing vulgarities that leapt from my lips.

"What the bloody hell Donnie?" Penlan asked our driver diplomatically.

"The um…commissars have stopped," the driver replied sheepishly through the tiny slit in the wall separating him from any potentially angry passengers. "There appears to be an Eldar on the road."

"Well I don't hear gunfire so it can't be that bad," Penlan muttered in response. Given her standing with Lady Luck, the sergeant was probably expecting a wraithlord's boot to drop on our heads at any moment. "Private, pop up and try to figure out what's going on," she then asked of me, giving me a convenient excuse to poke my head through the turret hatch (which I would normally have done right away were I in my commissarial garbs). I was expecting to see a dead Eldar, preferably smeared across the front of Cain's salamander, but alas the xeno was standing firm and resolute with only a few feet separating him meeting Jurgen's distinctive driving techniques. The reason the xeno hadn't been reduced to roadkill was immediately evident. The lone Eldar wore the blue and yellow armour of an Alaitoc soldier. It was also apparent that he was no mere soldier as his armour was heavier, more ornate, and his peaked helmet had a vibrant yellow and blue plume along its crest. I couldn't understand how an ancient race could design such unslightly battle armour; perhaps they had hoped to defeat us 'lesser species' through an overwhelming assault on our fashion sense. However, the Eldar soldier was equal parts deadly as he was decorative as he held a modified shuriken catapult fitted to his left vambrace and a large power sword was sheathed at his hip.

Any other member of the Imperial Guard would have ordered the xeno to be turned into a red mist but Commissar Cain, never one to take a situation simply at face value, knew there was more to the situation than an Eldar with a death wish. The Commissar leaned against the side of the open canopy, one hand I noticed resting on the butt of his laspistol, and simply locked eyes with the Eldar as if in some kind of staring duel. I suspect both were waiting for the other to make the first move but eventually the Eldar spoke up.

"Are you one known as Commissar Abel?" the Eldar spoke, his voice carrying an odd tone of calm eloquence. If he was nervous about standing before the barrel of a heavy bolter, it did not show.

"No, that would be my colleague here," Cain answered as he motioned towards N'hila, who stood next to him.

"Then that would mean you are Commissar Cain," the Eldar replied. "You seek the seer Kyriese, correct?"

"And what business is that to you xeno?"

"I am Exarch Caito, in service to Kyriese Myr'nel. An ambush awaits you at your destination and while your deaths would mean little to me, Kyriese insists that we avoid the arduous path," the Eldar explained. "If you would follow me, I shall take you to him."

Cain looked briefly to the assassin-in-disguises, conversing with her briefly and quietly before addressing the Eldar once more. "If your seer knows we seek him, then he must surely know the reason why. For what reason should we believe that you are simply leading us from one hypothetical ambush to an actual one?" A strong point and a question that I had float through my mind as well. It would be all too like an Eldar to lure a unit away from under a false pretence but I doubt that Cain would ever be one to drop his guard especially with Eldar involved.

"Indeed. Your Inquisitors are as subtle as they are intelligent but the detour is as much for our safety as it is for yours," the Eldar replied maintaining as much tact as possible when delivering insult remarks. "You are not the only ones who seek Kyriese and we'd rather you not lead them to him. I have little reason to offer other than the fact that you have been charged with finding him and this is the only path that offers that goal. If you do not believe me, then you are welcome to reduce me to an unsightly stain upon the earth…but then you will not only doom yourselves but this planet and many others. If you wish to speak with Kyriese then follow…" Not waiting for a rebuttal, either verbal or fully-automatic, the Eldar began trekking over the rubble of a collapsed building.

"Bleeding Eldar...always so damned melodramatic," Watz said to break the silence in the lead vehicle. "It's a goddamn war, not a bloody soap opera."

"I think we should follow him," N'hila said. While phrased like an opinion, as an agent of Inquisition it meant she was actually giving an order and it only appeared as if Cain was calling the shots.

"It could still be a trap but we're expecting an ambush either way," Cain said in order to give the appearance that he had reached the same conclusion through his own deduction. The main drawback, however, was that the path that the Eldar took was only traversable by foot. We had little choice but to disembark and proceed on foot, leaving the vehicles and their crew to wait for our return. For reasons that were unknown to me at the time, Cain instructed Spike to stay behind with the salamander rather than Jurgen, who seemed perturbed at the notion of leaving the vehicle in the care of another soldier. I figured that Cain simply wanted his trusted aide close at hand where he could do the most good if things went bad, which happened to be the truth but for an entirely different reason.

We had to double-time in order to catch up with the Eldar, who did not even have the basic decency to wait for us. He led us over the rubble and into a ruined building that did not look too unlike the hab complex that I had first met N'hila in. It wasn't the same one, of course, since most hab complex were built using the same drab architectural design and, more notably, this particularly hab complex was in even worse condition. More than half the building had been blown apart by bombs and mortar fire. It looked as structurally sound as a table with two legs blown off and even our collective footsteps seemed to upset the delicate balance of rockrete and plasteel. As we ventured deeper into the ruins, I prayed to the Emperor that a tanks or low-flying shuttles passed by. After ten minutes of the Emperor not deciding to bury us beneath a tonne of rockrete, the Eldar stopped at what appeared to be little more than a dead-end corridor that was blocked off by the collapsed ceiling. There was a hint of tension in the air for a moment as this appeared to be exactly the kind of destination one would take a squad of soldiers if you wanted to ambush them but the Eldar merely stood before the pile of rubble. With a wave of his hand, one of the slabs of rockrete flickered and suddenly vanished before our eyes, revealing a small passageway through blockage. Holo-field technology was nothing new to anyone in the squad, myself included, but I was still impressed by the subterfuge in play. The tension, however, wasn't entirely displaced as the newly-revealed corridor restricted passage to one person at a time; wherever we were going, we wouldn't be able to get out of it quickly.

Undaunted, we continued forth, squeezing one by one through the tiny passageway, and emerging on the other end in what used to be the hab complex's banquet hall. Compared to the rest of the building, the banquet hall was in fairly good condition with the exception of a few cracked walls, several of the tables having been smashed in by falling debris, and the kitchen that was completely blackened by a fire long since past. If a platoon of guardsmen were set upon the banquet hall, they would probably be able to bring it back to working condition and it would arguably be in as good condition as the mess hall in our current headquarters. Banquet halls were often the most structurally sound room in a hab complex, likely so the occupants could continue their Feast of the Emperor's Ascension without having to worry about bombing runs interrupting their celebrations (because every priest will tell you not even the Warp itself ripping open before you should interrupt a Feast of the Emperor's Ascension). I imagine there was a slight sense of disappointment for each soldier when they emerged on the other side of the passageway and did not find a room filled with Eldar warriors. Instead, we were greeted with the presence of an awe-inspiring grand total of _three_ Eldar. Clearly Kael had great faith in our honesty or this was the single-worst ambush in the history of Human-Eldar warfare. Sitting patiently on one of the few intact banquet tables was Kael or at least who I assumed was Kael since the toxic atmosphere meant everybody was wearing helmets and he wore the smooth, elongated helm of an Eldar warlock. Standing beside Kael was an Eldar warp spider - the same warp spider that had accompanied Kael when we met in my room. Lastly, leaning back in a chair with legs propped up on the nearby table was an Eldar banshee who appeared to be on the verge of going in a boredom-based coma. Given the apparent lack of numbers, I was willing to wager my salary that she was the same banshee that saved my arse earlier. Our arrival, however, seemed to catch the banshee's attention with great earnest, most likely because it was the only thing of interest happening in the room aside from the growing collection of dust.

"Wow…they actually showed up just like you said they would," she said with a hint of surprise. "I'm sorry I doubted you Kyriese."

"Apologies are not necessary," Iamanu, the warp spider, replied. "When it comes to things Kyriese says, scepticism is naturally the first response."

"Kyriese!" N'hila bellowed as she stepped out ahead of the rest of us, "We need to talk."

"Indeed…and I suspect you have a great many questions as you always do," Kael replied as he hopped off the table. "Unfortunately, this will have to be brief as danger stalks us from the shadows and even here we shall not be safe for very long." N'hila and Kael stepped a bit closer to one another while their respective entourage waited for the slightest hint of betrayal from the other side. "Ah…but where are my manners? Haste is no excuse for forgo proper etiquette. It is what separates our species from the more brutish races like the Orks after all. You have already met my old mentor Caito and behind are Iamanu and Aishtaid. I'm afraid that this is all the 'army' I have brought with me, which I have no doubt will disappoint Inquisitor Vail." Others may have been surprised but the small number reflected the Kael that I knew. An outcaste of his craftworld, Kael may have maintained his loyalties but he no longer had the authority to call upon or lead a warhost. The few Eldars following him likely left their units in order to do so out of personal loyalties to the seer.

"Enough with the bullshit and evasion Kyriese, I want answers from you," N'hila demanded sternly, taking another step closer as though to accentuate her point but was really just a means of getting within striking distance. "We know the Eldar have been operating on Erebus since the civil war broke out. What do the Eldar gain from throwing this world into chaos?"

"Did you ever consider that perhaps this world was thrown into chaos to prevent it from falling to it? Were it not for that war, your heretical menace would likely have festered unchecked for decades before boiling over with enough force that nothing short of an Exterminatus would have snuffed the flames," Kael was quick to reply. No doubt he saw the question coming from a mile away. "It's an odd way of saying thank you for exposing a problem that you humans would have otherwise missed."

"Next time maybe you should just vox us and leave us a message," N'hila replied, masterfully utilizing the same degree of sarcasm that I would've in the same situation.

"If I had perpetrated such acts, I would have done such…but these were the acts of neither I nor Craftworld Alaitoc. If you want to get angry at somebody, you want the other Eldar that can answer your questions." I doubt that Vail or Hakim would take an Eldar at his word but considering the civil war broke out while he was still on Magnus Viridis, I had little reason to doubt that he was telling the truth in this instance. "And I'm sure Autarch Junayd wishes he had done things differently as well since you humans did a rather poor job at rooting out the problem."

"Are you suggesting there are still heretics at work on Erebus?" Cain interjected.

"Heretics of the worst kind I'm afraid," Kael confirmed. That 'worst kind', unfortunately, were the daemon-worshipping kind. I had been led to believe the civil war was simply over a difference of opinions or because somebody figured they didn't need to pledge loyalty to the Imperium anymore…not because they sought favour with the dark gods.

"And how much else have you been holding out on us?" Cain replied with a hint of annoyance.

"Little else I'm afraid," Kael said in a reluctant tone. "There is a…haze that enshrouds this planet. I cannot pinpoint the source but it is most certainly not a natural phenomenon. All I know is that it is making it difficult to pierce the veil of fate. Junayd would be too proud to admit it to anybody, especially you humans, but he is stumbling around blindly like the rest of us, trying to figure out what it is he really seeks. What's worse is that I fear his own seers might actually be leading him astray."

"Meaning what?" N'hila asked.

"Meaning that when his less-experienced seers attempt to pierce this haze, it may in fact be lying to them. That is how I know that darker powers are at work – such a haze could not be created by an amateur or by accident. Somebody is deliberately shrouding their movements from psychic eyes and they are using dark rituals in order to do so."

Cain and N'hila exchanged glances for a moment, likely both wielding a sceptical glare as they turned their attention back to Kael. "You do realize that without any kind of evidence, there's no chance the Inquisitors will believe any of what you've just said."

"Guess I can't just say 'trust me on this,' can I?" Kael quipped with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "A pity since the true enemy benefits from you continuing to think that the Eldar are your real enemy."

"Launching raids doesn't exactly make it seem like you want to have tea and biscuits," Cain remarked.

"Junayd is using raids because he does not think you capable of handling the threat, which, interestingly enough, you might have been able to if he hadn't been raiding your base," Kael answered with a slight chuckle. "Alas, Junayd is not one to admit he doesn't know when he's a bit lost but if I can convince your Inquisitors that the Eldar are not the real threat, then I can perhaps use that as leverage to convince Junayd to stop his raids. Then maybe, and it's a big maybe, we can actually do something about saving this planet and every living soul on it…except for the evil ones."

I doubt anybody in the room aside from myself was inclined to believe Kael. I wondered for a moment if Kael kept coming to me because I was somehow significant or just because I might just be gullible enough to manipulate. It was a good thing that it was N'hila who had to attempt to take the seer down since I would have been reluctant to use any kind of force on him at this point. Speaking of take-down, all during the conversation N'hila had been gradually moving closer to the seer and was now within arm's length of him.

"If you want to convince the Inquisitors of this plan of yours, you're going to need to tell them face to face," N'hila explained. I noticed a subtle movement in the palm of her hand, which was turned away from the Eldar, that looked vaguely like somebody slipping something hidden in their sleeve. I realized then that N'hila was about to make her move.

"You and I both know that is out of the question. If you will not believe me then I'm afraid there's nothing else to be said. I bid you good tidings Commissar Abel," Kael said with a hint of disappointment. He stared at the assassin for a moment as though he was about to say something else but he remained silent and simply turned to walk away. I knew that if N'hila was going to make a move, this was going to be her best and only window of opportunity.

In hindsight, what I did next was incredibly stupid. "Kael, watch out!" I suddenly blurted out as N'hila stepped in for the strike. Eldar reflexes being far greater than those of a simple human, that split-second of advance warning was enough for Kael to suddenly snap back around and strike N'hila back with a powerful psychic pulse. The blast knocked the assassin several feet back and left the poison-coated dagger she had concealed tumbling to the floor. Pistols, rifles, and xeno weaponry were immediately brought to bear as stand-off broke out. By some miracle though, nobody fired and a tense silence flood the room.

"Ah Ariel…I was wondering when you'd make your presence known," Kael said slyly and I got the sudden impression that he hadn't been fooled by the plot in the least. Granted, he could have been faking the calm composure since he was a liar and manipulator. "Unlike some humans, your sense of honour I can always count on."

Understandably, N'hila was extremely mad at me. Actually, mad would be an understatement. When she got up, she looked at me as though she was about to declare exterminatus on my arse. "What the frak do you think you're doing?" she hissed at me after storming up to me. I honestly couldn't think of a worthwhile answer other than that it felt like the right thing to do, which I knew would be woefully inadequate in satisfying the demands of a pissed off assassin. On the scale of bowel-loosening terror, staring into the eyes of a furious Inquisitional assassin ranked just below staring into the business end of a gauss flayer. Since anything I could think of was not only inadequate but would also likely become my last words, I remained silent.

Thankfully, Cain stepped in and began to defuse the situation in his trademark diplomatic fashion. "Okay people and xenos alike, pointing guns at each other clearly isn't in anybody best's interests."

"Not in our best interests?" Iamanu scoffed. "You just tried to kill Kyriese and you expect us to lower our weapons so you can finish the job?"

"Technically, we were here to apprehend Kyriese. If we had wanted him dead we would have opened fire when we arrived," Cain explained calmly as he looked over to Penlan. "Regardless of what the truth is, we need him alive so I would ask the sergeant to tell her men to stand down." Cain then turned his attention back to the seer. "And since you are outnumbered and outgunned almost three-to-one Eldar, it would be in your best interest not to inadvertently provoke hostilities from us."

"The human speaks the truth," Kael said sternly to his cohorts. "Now please, stay your hand my friends. Nothing will be gained here today with violence and bloodshed."

Remarkably, after a few seconds, everybody in the room lowered their weapons and the situation was calm at last…or at least as calm as it can get when there's a pissed-off assassin in the room. Cain's timing couldn't have been any better since a few seconds later, the far wall suddenly exploded in a shower of rockrete and dust and through the cloud, gunfire came pouring in.


	9. NINE

**NINE**

War has a funny way of bringing people together. It can facilitate camaraderie between the most unlikely groups of people. It is surprising how easily the threat of imminent death can make people forget about differences of opinions, contrasting lifestyles, or their complete and utter contempt for one another. I doubt my friendship with Sister Venk would ever have come to fruition had it not been for the ravenous horde of undead monsters that tried to kill us. If N'hila harboured murderous intent of any kind towards me, those feelings were vague, distant thoughts when we found ourselves on the wrong side of heavy gunfire.

Every so often, I found myself momentarily confused as to who exactly I should be killing. Divine Will must have had it in for me because it could not have been coincidence that I regularly found myself in situations where the lines between friend and foe performed a hoedown just as the gunfire started. Both Eldar and Guardsman alike dove for whatever cover they could find. Some of the guardsmen took cover behind the pillars and fallen debris, while others overturned the heavily-ornate tables, which arguably had enough gold and brass fixings to stop a bolter round. I was fortunate enough to be near an already overturned table and dove over the top the bullets whipped past my helmet. Unfortunately, joining me behind cover was the still pissed-as-hell assassin and the Eldar banshee, Aishtaid.

"Friends of yours?" I remarked to the Eldar after doing a quick scan to determine if I still possessed the same quantity of blood as five minutes ago.

"Sounds more like friends of yours," the Eldar replied, sounding oddly enthusiastic over the prospect of a firefight. The frantic scramble for cover left me little time to think of anything else but now that I had time to assess the situation, I quickly noticed that the gunfire was a combination of lasgun and stubber fire. When Caito had earlier mentioned that we were not the only people seeking Kael, I had assumed he was referring to the Eldar of Biel-tan, who probably weren't pleased with Kael's interference. The absence of shuriken fire, however, meant we were dealing with humans and poorly equipped ones at that. Light stubbers were a tell-tale sign of militia, mercenaries, thugs, or the heretics that Kael had mentioned earlier. Since Erebus had become a coincidence-free zone, it was safe to assume that we were dealing with heretics of the zealous but insane variety. Despite confusion and the element of surprise, Penlan's troopers were able to organize themselves quickly into a defensive formation and it didn't take long for them to recognize that the new arrivals were shooting at everyone indiscriminately.

"Kill them all, let the Emperor sort out the guilty," Penlan instructed as we returned fire.

Like many heretics, our foe's grasp of the basics of stratagem was abysmal. And that was being overly generous in my assessment. Our initial volley of return fire dropped several of the assailants who hadn't bothered to take cover whatsoever. Watching their allies get cut to ribbons, however, quickly drove that lesson home for the survivors who, like us, used tables and pillars for cover. The gunfire died down slightly to the point where individual shots could be made out rather than a constant buzzing of muzzle flashes. It appeared that somebody on the opposing side had some semblance of intelligence with a demonstration of fire discipline. There was no need for them to empty the magazines at us since they had us pinned down in a corner. There was no means of escape save for the narrow passageway we originally had arrived through and the freshly made entrance directly behind the enemy. I tried my comm-bead but with all the rockrete around us, I couldn't get a signal to the chimeras. Despite superior skill and training, we were outnumbered and eventually a guardsman could not poke their head up without five heretics taking a shot at him. Their numbers kept us pinned down, preventing us from gaining momentum for a counter-attack.

"Got any ideas?" N'hila called over to Cain. Being an assassin, this sort of situation was well outside her expertise. Her combat doctrines revolved around deception and subterfuge - striking unseen with silent precision where there are no defences. An open firefight did not factor into her stratagem because to her, it signaled failure. Concentrated gunfire meant that she had messed up big time somewhere along the way. An assassin was akin to a commando - in her preferred conditions and environment, N'hila could be unstoppable. Pinned down behind a table facing a dozen or more armed assailants, however, she was as likely to die as the next person. Which unfortunately was me. I did not doubt that Cain and Penlan were already brewing some sort of plan to break free because I was coming up short in my own attempts. Were we out in the open, the situation would be as simple as throwing some grenades and laying down fire when the enemy broke cover but with the building in its condition, a poorly placed grenade could bury us all. I suspect that the enemy knew this as well, hence why we were not getting pelted with grenades either.

"We just need to take a bit of pressure off," Cain replied.

"If your people can restrain themselves, we can provide that relief," Kael suddenly suggested. By restraint, of course, he meant not shoot his people in the back, which was a valid concern.

"You want me to trust my life to these savages?" Iamanu immediately objected. "They are as precise as a blinded yne'kais!"

"I want you to trust me," Kael replied, turning to his friend briefly before looking back to Cain. "Do we have an agreement? We can go back to hating each other once we are safe."

"You have my word," Cain nodded. And in case any of our soldiers missed the exchange, he explained to them that any soldier who so much as even put a lasbolt near an Eldar would answer to him. It was an order that most commissars did not give out but temporary truces with Eldar were not unheard of…just rarely fulfilled as they usually ended with one side shooting the other in the back.

"I stand ready Kyriese," the banshee called out, taking a step back as though she was about to vault over our cover. In fact, I got the distinct impression that was exactly her intention, which struck me as near suicidal as there was more than twenty meters separating the opposing firing lines with little in terms of cover between them. I had to remind myself that Eldar were naturally deceptive, cowardly warriors and she wouldn't do something as foolish as a frontal assault without an ace up her sleeve.

"Then let fate smile upon you and the Bloody-Handed God guide your blade," Kael affirmed as he outstretched a hand to her. Without a moment's hesitation, Aishtaid vaulted over the table and ran headlong at the opposing line. I thought she would be gunned down in a heartbeat but what happened was clearly the product of Kael's mastery of warpcraft. Aishtaid moved faster than living creature I had seen before, jumping and running in an erratic fashion that I strained just to follow. And not a single shot found her – it was as though she knew where every bullet was going before the shooter even fired. I was completely transfixed on the banshee as she danced through their gunfire and so were all of our enemies, which was entirely the point. I did not realize that Iamanu was no longer among us until he emerged from the warp behind the enemy line. The enemy didn't notice the warp spider's presence until the screams came as heretics were cut to ribbons. By the time the heretics realized they were being flanked and turned to face the threat, the Eldar warrior slipped back into the warp and was gone.

With the enemy lines sufficiently thrown into disarray, the rest of us emerged from cover. To be honest, I was a bit surprised that our soldiers upheld Cain's promise as all our las fire was focused on the heretics caught in the open. Some were fortunate enough to dive back into cover but that only extended their meagre lives by a few more seconds, as Aishtaid had reached their line in the interim. She leapt over a table, firing her pistol into the man cowering behind it, and landed atop a second man and drove her blade through his chest. A heretic hiding behind a pillar took a few shots at the banshee but she dove back over the table to elude his line of sight. Pinned on one side of the pillar due to our lines of fire, the heretic could not see the banshee quickly rushing over to the opposite side of his cover. He didn't even get off a scream when she whipped around to corner. Only a flourish of crimson marked his demise, followed by a muffled thump in the now-silent air.

"Would it count as blasphemy to be slightly impressed by all of that?" I asked rhetorically as I lowered my lasgun.

"A bit," Cain said stoically as he holstered his pistol and dusted off his great coat.

"Good…because I wasn't impressed to any degree by anything that I had just witnessed."

Surprisingly, the Emperor did not punish us for fighting alongside xenos, despite what some hard-line commissars might say, and we emerged from the ambush without a single casualty, save for Penlan's dignity when she somehow managed to slip and twist her ankle diving for cover. The Eldar understandably kept their distance from us while our soldiers began checking for any survivors. A bunch of bodies would do us little good in figuring out where this new threat emerged. I suspected if we were to have any hope of convincing the Inquisitors that the Eldar weren't the true threat we would need to bring back more than just a pile of corpses.

"It's refreshing to see us actually accomplish something rather than waste time chasing each other around a ruined planet," Kael remarked. "Will you believe me now when I say that the Eldar aren't the true threat here?"

"Armed misanthropes do not make for a compelling counter-argument," N'hila said sternly as she started sifting through the belongings of one of the aforementioned misanthropes. From a casual glance, there was nothing that set them apart from any other random assortment of inhabitants other than the fact that they were quite dead. Granted, short of a brand of Chaos, it was usually hard to tell a Chaos worshipper heretic from your garden-variety crazed heretic. And apart from a mutually shared fate, there appeared to be little in common amongst our collection of corpses. A few appeared to be refinery workers and machinists, others were dressed in little more than rags, and a few had garments that suggested a moderate level of personal wealth. We had, in essence, a representation of the various inhabitants of the planet, which at least gave us some information. The garden-variety crazed heretics tend to spawn from one collective or another – unhappy workers group, renegade militia, a heretical cult, etc. Chaos worshippers, however, infiltrated all walks of life in their attempt to undermine the Imperial authority, ensuring that their presence was widespread when a revolt broke out. "No identification of any kind," N'hila muttered as she continued searching the dead man's pockets. "This doesn't make any sense. How could they have tracked us here? I would have noticed people following us."

"Perhaps they were waiting for us Commissar…er, uh…assassin lady," Watz commented, tripping a little bit since N'hila was still disguised as me.

"I doubt it. A prepared ambush would have gone better," N'hila said. Unlike open warfare, ambushes were more along her line of expertise. "They used explosive breaching charges and did a direct assault when it would have been smarter to simply demolish the whole building. This is the work of amateurs in a hurry."

"Honestly, I'm surprised the building didn't come down on top of us," I remarked with a small chuckle. "Guess that will teach me to bad-mouth Imperial architecture from now on."

"No survivors to report Commissars," one of the troopers reported much to our collective disappointment. Normally I wouldn't complain about an exemplary display of lethality but having somebody to question would have at least made this mission not a complete waste of time.

"Looks like we won't have much to report then," I said with a sigh.

"I can think of one thing," N'hila said harshly with a none-too-subtle glare at me. A part of me had hoped that the firefight would have driven that from her memory for a little bit longer but I knew it was only a matter of time. Somehow, despite sweating buckets in my uniform, I felt a sudden chill run through me. I held little hope of another timely intervention from Cain. Standing up for me due to a misunderstanding was one thing but that was not the case here. What I did was obviously a deliberate attempt to sabotage an Inquisitional operation. Strangely enough, the more sobering thought that came from my actions was not the realization that the Inquisition now had legitimate reason to bury me but that I honestly had no regrets over what I did. True, I felt bad that my actions would in turn make N'hila look bad to her superiors. Failure was not part of their option set. "In fact, give me one good reason why I should not just shoot you now." And since N'hila was not the type to go half-way with anything, especially threats, I was soon staring down the barrel of my own laspistol.

"I'll give you one," Watz's voice suddenly interrupted followed by a light tap as the barrel of his lasgun prodded the back of N'hila's head. "Inquisition or not, I'll be damned if I let you lay a finger on my Commissar."

"Kill me and you'll be more than damned," N'hila replied, not taking an eye off me.

"My soul's prepared…how's yours?"

Cain nor any of the other soldiers intervened and rightly so. It was a matter between me and the Inquisition and the others were smart enough to know to keep as far back from the Inquisition as possible. Surprisingly enough, N'hila blinked and gradually lowered her weapon. "This isn't over Abel," she warned me. I knew it couldn't be that simple but probable death later was a far better option that certain death now. Briefly, I contemplated my odds of deserting but outrunning the Inquisition was like arm-wrestling an ogryn – resisting only made it hurt more.

As Watz lowered his lasgun, I caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye coming from the direction of the opening through the wall. Quick recognition and quicker reflexes came into play. "Down!" I blurted as I tackled N'hila to the ground. A second slower and we would have been killed but instead the rocket whisked over our heads by such a narrow margin that I felt the heat from the burning propellant upon my neck. Thankfully, the only casualty from the rocket attack was a statue of the Emperor near the far wall, which took the hit square in his dust-covered chest.

"Son of a bitch!" Watz said with appropriate frustration as he and several troops rushed to find the culprit. A few shots were fired into the hallway but whoever fired the rocket left in a hurry. It appeared to have been a last-ditch effort to inflict some casualties but like the ambush its haste ultimately ruined it. Cain and several of the troops decided to give chase since the assailant was now our only hope of taking a prisoner alive, leaving me, Watz, N'hila, and a couple of troops to shuffle back to the transports. Personally, I wanted to just catch my breath since I was reaching my quota for near-death experiences in a day and I wasn't in a hurry to add to that tally. There was not, however, time for rest as the building suddenly let out a very loud and unsettling grinding noise.

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered as I picked myself off the floor.

"Shall we run in terror Commissar?" Watz remarked sarcastically.

"Run, yes. Terror, no," I hastily replied. As a commissar I obviously had to stomp out anything even resembling fear in the face of the enemy but the truth was I was very much in favour of fleeing in terror, renouncing my previously mentioned respect for Imperial architecture. The loud groan of stressed metal finally calling it quits was the only other advance warning we got before the building decided to give into gravity. I envied Cain's decision to give chase as he would have been well outside the building by the time it started giving way. In all the panic, I lost track of the Eldar but knowing Kael, he had an escape route planned in advance and were well out of harm's way by the time the rockrete settled. By some miracle, we managed to get out of the building with the only casualty being what remained of Penlan's dignity. Whether or not she could run with her twisted ankle wasn't tabled as a potential subject for formal simply hoisted the sergeant onto his shoulder and double-timed her out. Most people would not pull such a brazen act on a superior but Watz had already demonstrated a complete indifference to his personal well-being but of equal impact on his decision was he wasn't going to suffer Heilmit's reaction if he had allowed harm to befall the unlucky sergeant.

"Put me down Corporal! I can walk fine on my own!" Penlan ordered through a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment.

"Of course ma'am,' Watz replied. Now that we were out of danger, he wasn't interested in carrying around the extra weight and unceremoniously dumped Penlan onto the ground.

"Anybody see where the Eldar went?" I asked as I looked around. I wasn't expecting much in terms of an answer since disappearing was one of their specialties. Cain quickly voxed over to see if were all okay before instructing us to return to the chimera and wait for further instructions. Judging by the haste of the message and the heavy breathing, he and the other soldiers were being led on quite the chase. "Still okay to walk gimpy?" I quipped jokingly as I helped Penlan back to her feet. She muttered something of an acknowledgment but little else. We voxed ahead to let the transport know we were on our way, as well as update them as to what transpired during our chat with the Eldar. Spike sounded particularly annoyed at missing out on all the action and, I suspect, because Penlan got injured. We weren't certain of our exact location, however, since we ran out of the building in a hurry and one ruined structure looked identical to all the others. What few road signs were left didn't help us much as most of the roads had been blown to pieces and knowing we were on Seventus Street did us little good without a proper map. The vox operator in the chimera was at least able to tell us which direction to walk in order to reach the transports…although a fallen roadway appeared to be blocking the direct route. Since N'hila had been on the planet longer than the rest of us, allowed her to take point along with Trooper Brule. Only a few minutes into our, however, N'hila suddenly motioned for everybody to stop and get down but she used all the wrong hand signals and eventually had tell us to 'get down and shut up.'

Since I did not see N'hila as one to insist on having a quiet rest, I quietly made my way over to her. She was crouched behind some rubble, peering at something in the distance. "Are you going to share this with the rest of us?" I asked after a short bout of silence.

"It's that Eldar banshee," she answered as she pointed off to something hidden amongst some ruined buildings a few hundred meters away. I could see little more than some red tufts but after watching for a few more moments, the tufts began to move and I could clearly see the peaked outline of an Eldar helmet. At first I wasn't certain why she was hiding there of all locations but when she started moving in earnest I could see why – she was limping. Perhaps the Eldar did not escape the collapsing building as easily as I had originally thought, though why she was still alone was a bit puzzling. "She's injured. If we capture her and interrogate her, we might be able to find out where Kyriese is hiding."

"If?" I asked. Even wounded, I didn't like our chances of being able to take the Eldar alive and, though I did not say it at first, it seemed too obvious an opportunity. Also, Kyriese did not strike me as the type to leave his people behind, especially considering the lengths he went to in order to rescue me from an Ork-infested compound back on Magnus Viridis.

"Do you plan on warning her too?" she said bitterly.

"No, I think the sight of an Imperial Commissar and a half-dozen armed soldiers running full-steam at her will be sufficient warning," I replied with sarcasm in order to mask my growing disdain for her. Even a wounded Eldar could run pretty fast and I wasn't certain I wanted our party made even smaller when we were still technically lost in hostile territory. The possibility of hostile Eldar was already very high and now we had to keep in mind there could be heretics waiting to succeed where their allies had failed moments ago. Unfortunately, I could no more order the assassin to stay put than I could order a mob of orks to ballroom dance. Now if our assassin ran off and got herself killed then it would at least save me from the whole 'intentionally frakked up the operation' threat looming over my head. That threat, however, I estimated to be ten-fold less than the amount of flak I'd catch if I returned to base without the assassin. I certainly wouldn't be able to lie about the issue as there were almost a half-dozen witnesses who had no reason to lie to the Inqusition at my behest. They would also be required to mention Waltz's intervention. There would be two new and eager recruits for the suicide regiment. So alas, once the assassin got it into her head that she could salvage something from this mission by bringing in a captive Eldar, there was little I could other than to try and keep up with her.

Thankfully, N'hila had enough foresight to not make our advance too obvious from afar. She led the squad back several meters so we could use another building to cover our approach. N'hila obviously took the lead, creeping to the corner of the building to peer down the street to the building housing the Eldar. "Good, she's still there," N'hila muttered. "We can approach from the east side of the building and make our way in through the back." She made the whole plan seem so simple when she phrased it like that but I knew there was a reason one rarely hears of stories about humans successfully sneaking up on Eldar. Nonetheless, I remained silent since I had no choice but to ensure that N'hila didn't get herself killed chasing down Eldar and since I couldn't do that alone, the rest of the troopers had to be involved. It was extremely tempting to just knock the foolish girl out and drag her back to base. Her reckless determination did in a way remind me of the insane stunts I had pulled off in order to prove my worth and I was beginning to understand why they gave Cain such a headache. At the very least, it gave me some insight into the decision-making behind my own recklessness and it gave me something to look forward to – parting ways and never having to deal with N'hila ever again. We cut through a few ruined buildings in order to gain an approach without being detected. However, the Eldar was hiding up on the second floor, which meant having to somehow silently ascend a narrow stairwell. Normally, I would've voiced an objection immediately but if I had even so much as whispered I would have definitely alerted the Eldar and would be subsequently blamed for ruining the operation. I had no desire to have blame laid at my feet again so if things were going to go downhill then N'hila could be the one at the receiving end.

As cautious as we were, I doubt that a half-dozen soldiers creeping up a flight of stairs was going to be quiet enough to escape an Eldar's notice. We had to ascend single-file with N'hila in the lead. I was content being a few soldiers back though I felt a bit guilty since I was basically using the troops ahead of me as a buffer. If the Eldar decided to go on the offensive, the narrow corridor virtually guaranteed the first two or three soldiers would be slaughtered before the first "what the frak" was uttered. It might buy me enough time to prepare a proper defence or at least mutter one last prayer before meeting the Emperor. At the top of the stairs, only a simple wooden door separated us from our target. If we were to have any chance of success, speed and precision would be essential.

In retrospect, warning the Eldar would have saved us a lot of pain and grief.

Out for redemption, N'hila steeled herself and lunged at the door, ready to kick it off its hinges. Just before her foot hit the door, however, it suddenly swung open and the assassin fell forward in a frantic attempt to regain her balance. The banshee was on the other side, of course, and N'hila's momentum carried her straight into the banshee's rising knee. Aishtaid then slammed the door into the assassin's head and a second kick sent N'hila back into the hallway and crashing through the stair's already-broken guardrail. I was far enough up the stairs that her flying body missed me but it did fall onto the two soldiers behind me, resulting in a cascade of tumbling bodies down the stairs. The soldier behind N'hila managed to avoid getting hit but when he brought his lasgun to bear, the banshee slammed the door, pinning the lasgun against the doorframe. The Eldar then grabbed the lasgun by the barrel and pulled the soldier through the doorway. Stunning him with a punch to the throat, she grabbed his lasgun and smashed the rifle butt into the side of face, knocking him down and seizing his weapon. Thankfully, this gave Trooper Brule and I a clean line of sight and we fired a few shots with complete disregard for the 'take her alive' objective we had been given. Despite our close range, Aishtaid managed to retreat back into her room and the only thing we hit was the door that shut behind her. We were about to give chase when a lasgun barrel protruded through one of the holes we had just left in the door and began blindly firing shots into the hall, forcing Brule and I to take cover. The gun only stopped firing when the power cell ran dry, at which point Brule rushed for the door and knocked it open with a shoulder check. There was, however, no sign of the Eldar within the room, only a lasgun that had been wedged through a hole in the door.

"Where the frak did she go?" Brule remarked as she ran to the nearby window. "There! She went out the window!" Before I could say something sensible like 'it's too risky to go alone' given that most of our team was only just recovering from being knocked senseless, Brule jumped out the window and gave chase. I couldn't exactly fault a guardsman for showing dedication and loyalty to the mission but it left me in an uncomfortable position. While I didn't want to go chasing an Eldar through a ruined city, I couldn't in good conscience abandon a soldier like that. With few viable options, I had to follow Brule out the window and join the pursuit.

I suspect that one of the reasons that Brule was so eager to give chase was because she happened to be one of the fastest soldiers in her company. That meant she was often picked to be the runner when a vox was broken, fostering a fearless mentality. Normally that would be very commendable for a soldier but at that moment it meant I had to go all-out just to keep pace with the trooper. My tiny frame and short legs were no match for the tall and limber trooper and the heat and extra load from my uniform didn't help either.

Even limping, Aishtaid could really move her arse. Brule was barely keeping pace with the Eldar and I was only managing to keep in the pursuit because Brule had enough foresight to guess where the Eldar was going. Occasionally, she snapped off a few shots at the Eldar but running made for wildly inaccurate fire and the Eldar wasn't dissuaded by it. The empty city streets made keeping the Eldar in sight a bit easier but she did keep ducking into side alleys, after which Brule would relay the new directions to me. Where Aishtaid was running to I had no idea and twice I could have sworn we had gone in a circle and passed the same overturned truck. I figured the Eldar was just trying to lose us before returning to Kael but she wasn't having much luck shaking Brule.

"Alley, left!" Brule's voice shouted through my comm-bead. Fortunately I wasn't too far behind and saw the Valhallan disappearing into an alleyway between two crumbling buildings. The alleyway was wide but branched off into numerous side passages and had it not been for Brule's constant updates I would have taken a wrong turn. I kept following her instructions as best I could until suddenly her next set of directions was abruptly cut-off with an unsettlingly loud clang. Fearing the worst, I hurried along and found the trooper sprawled across the alley floor. With a slightly bent garbage can lid lying on the ground next to a number of garbage bins, it was easy to piece together what had transpired.

"You okay Brule?" I asked as I knelt by her side.

It took a few seconds for the trooper's brain to restart but she gradually groaned and readjusted her gasmask, which had been left skewed by the impact. "Just my pride…" she muttered. Her voice was as pained as one would expect from a person who went from full-sprint to ass-over-tea kettle in half a second. Since the banshee was nowhere to be seen, I concluded there was no point in continuing the pursuit. There were too many routes she could have taken and Brule was too busy sprawled on the ground to know which way the Eldar took. I helped the trooper back to her feet and was about to vox the rest of the squad when I heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching.

"Someone's coming," I said as I pulled Brule behind the lidless garbage bin. It was coming from ahead of us, which was the wrong direction for it to be the rest of our squad. Judging from the noise, several people were coming and approaching fast. There wasn't enough time to run, not with Brule still partially dazed from the previous hit and all the running had caught up to me and my legs felt like lead weights. Brule and I readied our weapons and prayed that the element of surprise would be enough to see us through the next two minutes. One can imagine my surprise and relief when we discovered who it was.

"Damnation! Did you see which way he went?" It was Commissar Cain at the head of a half-squad of troopers. I knew they had run off in pursuit of one of the remaining assailants but I had not expected to run into them so soon.

"Cain?" I called out in surprise as I stepped out into the open.

"Commissar Abel?" he replied, equally surprised. "What are you doing out here?"

"Chasing Eldar," I explained. "I don't suppose you saw one, did you? It had a limp; it would have been hard to miss." Unfortunately, Cain shook his head and asked if Brule or I had seen the man he had been pursuing, who would also have been hard to miss. Even a one-eyed person would notice a man fleeing through an alleyway and since I hadn't seen any sign of such an occurrence, it was clear that Cain had also lost his quarry.

Suffice to say, Cain was understandably confused by it. "This doesn't make any sense. We were right on his tail. He couldn't have just vanished that quickly." I wish I could say the same for our Eldar quarry but they actually were quite capable of disappearing in a heartbeat. If Kael had any more of his holofield projectors lying around, the Eldar could have slipped into hiding that would look and feel like a solid brick wall to us. While we were all catching our breath, the remainder of the squad finally caught up with us.

"What are we all just standing around here?" N'hila asked upon her arrival.

"We lost them," Cain answered.

"Just frakking brilliant!" N'hila exclaimed with a frustrated sigh, still obviously in 'Abel' mode. Cain and I simply ignored her as I tried to figure out what I would say to the Inquisitors, while Cain seemed concerned with something entirely different. He was glancing about as though something about our surroundings was bothering; as though there was something wrong that he couldn't put its finger.

"Are you all right Sergeant Penlan?" Cain asked when he noticed the limping non-com who had been lagging behind the rest of her squad.

"Honestly Commissar, this is really starting to sting a bit," she said with a tone that trying to hide the pain from each step. I had to admit I was impressed she had managed to run so far on an injured leg with hardly a complaint. That level of dedication wasn't too uncommon in the 597th, however, as I once recalled a private returning to base after a prolonged winter-time skirmish with a sucking chest wound and his only remark was that it made it slightly easier to breath. "If it's all the same, I think I'm going to just have a seat for a moment," she said with another groan. Given her condition neither Cain nor I was going to object to a few minutes of reprieve. The sergeant took a seat on a small garbage bin and pulled her injured leg up and rested it on her knee. "Doc's going to make me stay off this for a few days," she grumbled. The garbage bin, unfortunately, was not designed to hold the weight of a Valhallan soldier and when she shifted her weight, one side of the bin suddenly crumpled in. This knocked the sergeant forward and left. Normally a person would fix that by slamming a foot down to regain balance but Penlan's left foot was the one currently propped up on her right knee. Instead, she quickly grabbed onto the nearest, most solid object she could find for support, which happened to be an iron beam supporting a small overhang.

Or at least, the beam looked to be the most solid object nearby. As it turned out, the beam was about as structurally sound as the garbage bin the trooper was sitting on. When Penlan threw her weight into the beam, it snapped faster than a twig in a power claw and both Penlan and iron beam went crashing towards the ground. However, since the beam was taller than the alley was wide, it hit the opposite wall first, punching a hole through the already heavily-damaged wall. That had the minor side-effect of causing an entire section of wall to come crumbling down. Normally such reckless property damage would be frowned upon but if anything Penlan had simply sped up the inevitable demolition process.

However, backlash from irate property owners or Administratum officials was the further thing from our minds as the destroyed section of wall had revealed a chamber wherein stood the man that Cain had been chasing around the city. Unfortunately, the man was not alone as he stood alongside several others, all of whom were armed. For a brief second, which felt like it had been stretched across the planet, the two parties just stared at each other in dumbfounded silence.

"Oh shi-" cursed one of the heretics as they tried to bring their weapons to bear. The Valhallans, however, were much faster on the draw. Volleys of lasgun fire cut across the room, each soldier having picked a target and focused their fire until everyone in the room, save one, was dead. That one, of course, was the man that Cain had been chasing and because he was unarmed he had fortunately or unfortunately (time in our hands would alter that balance) made himself a low priority target. A single shot through the leg was sufficient to incapacitate the man who was now on the floor, groaning and cursing in pain.

"Golden Throne Jinxie, could you give us a bit more warning next time?" one of the troopers asked rhetorically after everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.

"Check the area, make sure there aren't any others," Cain instructed and several troopers headed further into the building. He motioned for the squad's medic to follow as he walked over to the wounded heretic. I was a bit puzzled at first as to the purpose of the medic since the injury wasn't life-threatening but I stood back and simply watched. "Emergency breather," Cain requested of the medic. An emergency breather was basically a small gasmask with an oxygen tank designed to treat soldiers who may have had their gasmasks damaged for one reason or another. I had quickly deduced Cain's plans and I had to suppress a small chuckle. After binding the heretic's hands, the medic and I hoisted the man up and set him down on a nearby table that had managed to survive the gunfire. For a brief moment, Cain simply stood before the heretic. It was unfortunate that his gasmask meant he couldn't use one of his effective threatening glares but I think the faceless, emotionless façade worked just as effectively. "I suspect you already know who I am and I don't give a damn who you are so I won't waste time with introductions," he began, folding his hands behind his back. "Answer my questions and I will ensure that you are given a quick and painless death. If not, I promise you that every moment left in your rapidly shortening life will be agonizing. Now tell me - who sent you?"

Granted, in the choice between death and more death, I would be prone to giving my future executioners a hard time too. That, however, did not change the fact that we were all quite annoyed when the heretic proved uncooperative…at first. "The void with you! I ain't telling you nothing!" he snapped back. I'm sure he would have spat in the commissar's face too if that were possible. "You Emperor-suckling grox can go frak yourself."

"Very well, do not say I didn't warn you," Cain said with remarkable patience. He prompted grabbed the heretic by the gasmask and tore it off, casting it aside as the heretic began to cough on the toxic air. "Trooper, how long can a man survive in this atmosphere without a breather?"

"Five minutes of exposure results in permanent lung scarring, Commissar," the medic answered with medical-grade precision. I expect in preparation for our mission all of the regiment's medics were briefed on the effects of Erebus' atmosphere. "After eight minutes, surgical intervention will be required and after ten he will be drowning in his own blood."

"Well that sounds like a rather unpleasant way to spend the last minutes of your life," Cain commented as calmly as one would remark about a warm summer day. The heretic was now coughing quite badly as each breath drew in more and more toxic fumes, hopefully burning his throat all the way down. "Care to rethink your answer?" Cain asked, holding the emergency breather over the heretic's mouth, providing a few fleeting moments of relief. The heretic, remaining defiant, said no. Actually, what he said was something quite vulgar and blasphemous but 'no' was the basis of his response. "A pity," Cain sighed. "Troopers, this man is looking a bit pale. I think he needs a bit of fresh air."

Inside the room, the outside atmosphere was slightly displaced by the airflow from nearby vents so the medic and I picked up the heretic and hauled him out to the alley where he could have the atmosphere in all its splendour. After about a minute of writhing on the ground, burning from the inside-out, the heretic gasped something that sounded vaguely like 'I'll talk.' Amazing how quickly loyalties, however misguided, dissolved when oxygen was removed from the equation.

Cain promptly placed the emergency breather back over his mouth and patiently waited for the heretic to get a few breaths in so his answer would have something to carry it. "Give me a name," Cain demanded.

"Mer…Merari," the heretic sputtered. Now there was a name that none of us wanted to hear and I doubt the Inquisitors would be any happier with it. Thus far, the Inquisitors' investigation had turned the name up repeatedly but little more could be said of it. As Inquisitor Hakim said, as far as anyone could tell, the man did not exist. He had originally thought it an Eldar alias but I was growing doubtful of that considering the supposed alias tried to kill us and Kael.

"That doesn't tell us much, does it?" Cain asked N'hila.

"It's next to useless," she replied, sounding strangely distracted. It was as though the interrogation mattered little to her, which was odd considering the lengths we went through for it. Perhaps she was just disappointed by the dead-end answer.

"We're going to need more than that," Cain said as he pulled the breather off in order to give the heretic a few moments to get his answers straight. After about a minute the guy started coughing up blood, which Cain took as a sign that he might be more willing to discuss things further. Unfortunately, the fumes did have the unforeseen side-effect of weakening his voice and by that point it was barely above a hoarse whisper. The heretic said something but Cain had to lean in just to hear and the rest of us were left waiting on the Commissar. Whatever the answer was, however, it didn't seem to satisfy Cain as he simply let out a disappointed sigh and tossed the breather back to the medic.

"What'd he say?" N'hila asked though she still sounded uninterested in the entire conversation.

"He said 'may my flesh rot and give life anew,'" Cain repeated with restrained contempt.

"What an odd thing to say," I remarked as the words meant nothing to me. Cain and N'hila, however, clearly knew something that had gone right over my head.

"It's a common saying for followers of Nurgle, one of the Dark Gods," Cain explained. As a young commissar I still didn't know much about the Dark Gods other than telltale signs of their followers. My lessons at the schola said that followers of Nurgle were usually hideously bloated and disfigured, which I thought would have made them easier to spot. Turned out education for commissars wasn't much better in terms of factual accuracy as education for the Guard. "Do you think the Inquisitors will want to interrogate him further?"

"He's a lackey at best," N'hila responded dismissively. "If he had any significance, the toxic atmosphere wouldn't be killing him." And so we left the man on the ground, trying to carry on our conversation while he coughed himself to death in the background. He made a lot of ruckus for a man whose lungs were slowly dissolving.

"What's our next move then?" Cain asked.

"Report back to the Inquisitors. There is…something I need to ask him," N'hila answered. I had the strangest suspicion that N'hila was holding something back but I obviously had no intention of saying anything. I was in no position to demand anything from her (beg, perhaps, but not demand). Fortunately, I did not need to wait too long to find out what it was.

* * *

As one would expect, I was not looking forward to the debriefing with the Inquisitors. As I followed Cain and N'hila back to the meeting room, I silently prayed to the Emperor for some sort of intervention and, for a brief moment, I prayed that Cain would come to my rescue again. I figured that if anybody in the immediate vicinity could save me, it'd be Cain. N'hila had returned to her normal, quiet self and I at least had a few moments to slip out of that Valhallan portable sauna and back into my greatcoat.

"There better be a damn good reason why there's not an Eldar being dragged in here in shackles." Unsurprisingly, Inquisitor Hakim was a bit unhappy when he saw the three of us returning without the seer in tow. I had hoped that the subject of my impending execution would have come up a little bit later but that was like showing up to morning parade in your nightie and hoping the drill sergeant wouldn't notice. Not likely to happen and not likely to happen very quickly. Inquisitor Vail was also present but she sat silently at the far end of the conference table. While I imagined she was likewise disappointed at our failure, she did not appear surprised by it. "What happened N'hila? You assured me you would be able to take him down. Was I mistaken to entrust you with that crucial task?"

I remained as straight-faced as I could despite the fact that I was about to thrown headlong under the bus without so much as a 'howdy do or have a nice day.' Hakim's patience with me was probably already shorter than an Ork's temper so I was expecting his fury would be carried out swiftly and, if I was lucky, painlessly. A lesser person might have tried to run or make excuses but I fully intended to own up to my actions. It was the only honourable thing that I could still do.

"I blew my cover," N'hila answered. It took every ounce of will power not to be visibly taken back by her answer but I remained quiet and at attention. I was still staring into a bus' headlights but for a brief moment it appeared to have stopped just inches from my head.

"You blew your cover?" Hakim exclaimed incredulously. "Of all the…that's the one thing you're expected to be able to handle! The one thing you're supposed to be among the best at! Are you telling me that this…impersonating this two-bit simpleton of a commissar was too difficult for you?" Were he not an Inquisitor, I likely would have thumped him over the head with my shock maul for such remarks but not wanting to tempt fate any further, I remained silent. For whatever reason, N'hila was taking the blame for me and I had no intention of stepping into the line of fire that was developing before me. Now despite my previous decision to 'own up to my actions,' my sense of honour was trampled by an overwhelming sense of self-preservation. As Cain wasn't willing to resume responsibility for the regiment's paperwork, he wasn't going to oust me. And Hakim was too proud to ask any of the accompanying soldiers what happened so there was no threat from that either. So long as I didn't give reason for N'hila to recant her story, I was in the clear. I made a mental note to find a quiet,private place and offer N'hila my first, second and third-born child. She did not strike me as the type to just let a grudge go without reason.

"There were…subtleties in her interactions with Kyriese that I could not have predicted," N'hila offered as explanation to the Inquisitor.

Hakim finally seemed to have calmed down from his ranting, gently prodding at his forehead as though all his frustration focused at that point. "That is twice you've disappointed me N'hila," Hakim said grimly. "Tell me that all these years guiding and teaching you have not been for naught. Tell me that I have wasted precious time and resources of the Inquisition training a protégé who cannot even pose as a commissar for ten goddamn minutes!"

For a moment, it seemed like N'hila was going to remain silent and simply take the abuse. That did fit her subdued nature but the Inquisitor seemed to be one of the very few people that could coax more than a few sparse words from her and she soon revealed that she wasn't quite finished with the debriefing. "Valdron," she said abruptly.

"Come again?"

"We were attacked by Choas worshippers andValdron was amongst them. Commissar Cain interrogated him," N'hila calmly and bluntly stated.

"Wait a second," Vail suddenly interrupted, leaning forward in her seat and staring at Hakim inquisitively. "Wasn't Valdron one of your men? He was the chubby one with the flat nose and bad breath."

For a moment, Hakim looked as though the rockrete floor underneath him had suddenly cracked open. As if he was trying to assess the direction of the next assault. "Are…are you certain it was him?" he stammered.

"It was," Cain stepped in as confirmation. "And I suspect he was able to find us by tracking N'hila's comm-bead transponder."

"It seems you have a rather serious security breach among your ranks Inquisitor," Vail said with only a mild hint of veiled amusement. It was as if she enjoyed watching Hakim's carefully controlled world slowly come crumbling down around him. Having a leak on your team was bad enough to cause others to question your competence but a spy working for the Ruinous powers spoke very poorly of the Inquisitor. I highly suspect that the more zealous Inquisitors wouldn't wait long before declaring him tainted as well.

His stammering continued, "This…this is impossible," Hakim blurted. "My men would not…they would never-". Oh how quickly the tables had turn on our poor inquisitor. I was thinking that having a sideline seat to this pig roast was well worth the price of admission. But as suddenly as the fun began, we were tossed from the room.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention N'hila," Vail interrupted calmly. "If there is nothing else, then you three are dismissed. Hakim and I have a few things we need to discuss…in private." The once proud and stoic Inquisitor Hakim suddenly looked a few shades paler as the three of us headed out of the room. And as much as I would have loved to have been able to watch the impending fireworks I was leaving the room with my life. I viewed that as a definite victory and I was not going to risk my luck further.

"N'hila," I called out as the assassin strode past me.

"We're even," she said plainly without even looking back. It shouldn't have come as a surprise that she knew exactly what I wanted to ask but it actually took me a moment to realize what she had meant. When the realization hit, I felt like a complete idiot; it was the rocket. Despite the fact that I was simply saving my own arse, I had inadvertently saved her life too. Granted, saving her life had never crossed my mind beyond its necessity. Had the rocket hit her, the blast would have killed everyone in close proximity, myself included, so saving her was the only way to ensure my own survival. As callous as it may sound, if I could have saved my life by throwing N'hila into the rocket, I would have done so without hesitation. Nonetheless, some over-excited sense of honour within her was compelled to settle the debt by saving my life, in this case by taking the blame for the failed mission. I wasn't going to argue, and I couldn't think of anything else to say other than a rather clumsy 'thanks,' which I'm certain she ignored.

"So…what do you think is going to happen to Inquisitor Hakim now?" I asked, turning to Commissar Cain.

"Valdron was one of Hakim's hired guns. It wasn't as though he was a top lieutenant or privy to sensitive information," Cain answered. "The security breach looks bad but aside from a good deal of embarrassment and some much-needed humility, Hakim should be fine in the long run. The traitor, however, does raise some troubling concerns."

"Well it couldn't have been a coincidence that a heretic got hired by an Inquisitor who happens to investigating a planet steeped in Chaos worshippers," I replied, having successfully followed Cain's line of thought. His agreeing nod felt strangely vindicating, like a tutor affirming a pupil's correct answer. I tried not to let it go to my head. "The Eldar aren't the only ones capable of seeing into the future, are they?"

"Prophecy is not a common skill among psykers,it is a tool used by even the Inquisition. A sorcerer favoured by the dark gods would have the necessary power to glimpse into the future as well as obscure it from others," Cain continued, sounding for a brief moment as worried about the notion as I was. He paused for a moment, perhaps contemplating the total implications of his words or maybe just trying to be dramatic, before looking to me again. "I suggest you get some rest Commissar. I suspect that the game has just become a great deal more complicated…and the stakes even higher than we could imagine."

"Lovely," I said with a sigh. For a while, I wished I could have gone back to just having to worry about Eldar. And if I had known what was to come, I might have marched right back into that briefing room and got myself executed. It would have spared me a lot of pain, grief, and sorrow.


	10. TEN

**TEN**

I had long since exceeded my capacity for dealing with the Inquisition for one week and so I was more than relieved when I saw neither hide nor hair of the Inquisitor or any of his lackeys for the next several days. Rumours of their presence, however, persisted amongst the troopers. The favourite around the mess hall was that Commissar Cain was being tasked by the Inquisition to hunt down a dangerous Eldar witch (or rogue psyker in some variants). Speaking of the Eldar, they became remarkably quiet over the next several days. Occasionally a patrol would return claiming they had seen Eldar scouts lurking amongst the ruins but never any reports real confrontations with them. It was almost as though they decided that we simply weren't worth their time or consideration. For a while I could not decide whether this was a positive change in our fortune or merely the calm before the storm. Recalling what Cain had told me earlier about the probabilities of good fortune on the battlefield and my personal relationship with Lady Luck, I expected the universe suddenly appear with a thunderhammer in hand the moment I dropped my guard. Likewise, Major Broklaw was not going to take any chances either and he used the lull to squeeze in more combat drills and training in anti-Eldar tactics. Even though Cain and I had debriefed the Major on our little conversation with Kael, minus the 'me saving the Eldar' part, Broklaw was not prepared to dismiss the Eldar threat. Plus, there was little extra preparation that the regiment needed in dealing with heretics other than making sure they had a ridiculously excessive stockpile of power cells to deal with them all.

After dodging gunfire, rockets, and a collapsing building, I had no complaints about spending a few days in my little office toiling over a mountain of paperwork that had been redirected to my desk. At first I didn't notice the extra volume and it wasn't until Watz asked why I had spent seven uninterrupted hours at my desk that I began to realize that there was an unusual excess of paperwork than usual. My first instinct proved correct and I was informed that Commissar Cain had been redirecting all his paperwork to my desk. I would have asked Cain why but when I tried to find him, I was informed by his malodorous aide that the Commissar was 'indisposed at the present moment.' I would have no better luck in subsequent attempts as I later received a message from Cain, stating very little other than that he would be 'indisposed for several days,' which I assumed was just a subtle way of saying he had been made the Inquisition's pet. I did not envy Cain and his immense reputation – if being a hero meant having to run errands for the Inquisition then I was more than happy to remain in relative obscurity and I took comfort in that.

It was a nice feeling while it lasted.

I got the impression that Cain's 'recruitment' into the Inquisition's service was as sudden for him as the rest of us. I had to have Spike leave a sign on Cain's office door to redirect all inquiries to me and I spent a good portion of those quiet days explaining Cain's absence. Unfortunately, telling people he's 'indisposed' (we certainly like using that word in the 597th) didn't help quell the constant rumours about him working on behest of the Inquisition on some highly classified, secretive assignment that only a hero of the Imperium could successfully complete. I mean let's face it; if I was given a task by an Inquisitor, everyone would assume that I was desperately needed to take notes or brew a pot of recaf or move furniture. Cain getting a task could only mean it was a difficult, demanding, nearly impossible assignment. A hard man for a hard job.

Cain's departure did have one benefit, however, as it made me the acting Senior Regimental Commissar. It would have meant more if there were any commissars for me to reign over but it did mean that I was now required to have frequent meetings with the regiment's CO to address personnel issues, discipline reports, and all the other little odds and ends that came with being the regiment's morality police. As I said, these meetings were routine between senior commissars and commanding officers but they were usually held only once or twice a week and were as popular with command as the next Black Crusade. Despite repeated insistences that things were to remain professional between us, it was difficult not to look forward to having time to speak with Broklaw away from the prying eyes of the other officers.

And we might have scheduled our meetings during dinner hours…

And had them every other day…

And we usually ran out of 'official business' to discuss within the first ten minutes…

I'm certain even the God-Emperor himself would've rolled his eyes at us.

Of course, that's not to say those meetings were entirely self-serving. We occasionally discussed the Eldar and potential heretics but it was often just wild speculations or Broklaw would recount his previous experiences with the Eldar. His views on the Eldar were exactly what one would expect from a seasoned officer – his first choice of communication with them through the mouth of a lasgun. Despite my trust in the Major, I was reluctant to confide my true thoughts on the Eldar, or more specifically Kael. Mainly out of fear that it would damage his opinion of me. How could I explain that I actually trusted Kael without sounding naive, idiotic or, worse, a blasphemer? He wasn't entirely convinced that the Eldar were the primary threat on Erebus, he was willing to entertain the thought that there might be other forces at work, which is more than most officers. To be fair to the officers of the 597th it was hard to think that the Eldar weren't the main problem when they were the ones who just recently tried to kill your CO.

"I can only fight the enemy that's standing in front of me," Broklaw explained while we were chatting over a pot of tanna. I would have preferred a glass of amasec but even I could recognize that liquor would have been a horrible idea given the situation. "I can't waste resources chasing speculations. If Cain and Inquisitor Vail can drag the heretics out into the light, then I'll be glad to unleash the Emperor's fury upon them but until then I have to focus on the enemy that's actually here…which is odd since it's usually the Eldar that are hiding."

"Whatever they're after, it must really be motivating them," I said, pretending to be indifferent to whoever the focus of our wrath was.

"Their motivation may be running out if the patrol reports are anything to go by."

"Yes…it would be just like them to run off just as quickly as they came running in. But somehow I doubt we'll be that fortunate."

"Clearly they were frightened off by the success of their assassination of the Magos and his administrative staff," Broklaw replied jokingly, prompting a quiet chuckle that made me feel a little bad about laughing over somebody's death.

"Has there been any word about receiving some support from the other provinces?" I inquired.

"The far north has been really quiet," Broklaw said with an indifferent shrug. "The Mordian 33rd Iron Guard is likely going to be redeployed to this location by the week's end. That should hopefully bolster our numbers but they're a light infantry regiment. I'd feel more secure if we had some heavy armour support in case the Eldar deploy more wraithlords."

"Mordians?" I repeated bemused. "That will be interesting to see." I had never had contact with the Iron Guard before and I had heard little about them other than Watz once referring to them as a bunch of 'upper-class twits.' I doubt the average soldier of the Iron Guard was any better off economically than a Kriegan but their parade-style uniforms gave the impression that they were more concerned about their appearance than their efficiency. I dismissed Watz's opinion as his usual cynicism towards anything not of Krieg and was simply grateful that we would soon have extra bodies to plug all the holes in our lines. Still, I had the same concern as Broklaw about our lingering issue of anti-armour capabilities. We had plenty of lascannons and the Mordians would be bringing more with them but lascannons were gun emplacements – ideal for defensive operations but their practicality declined the more mobility the fight demanded. And given the Eldar nature to run and hide, mobile firepower was essential. Alas, the few armoured regiments on the planet were deployed to protect locations that Segmentum Command had deemed to be far more important than our location. Granted, the starport and functioning forges were crucial for restoring function to this world but they did not have giant robots tearing through the walls. In fact, the worst threat facing them were potholes the size of small cars. The brass in charge of planetary operations merely expressed 'their confidence in our ingenuity in overcoming these obstacles and faith that the Emperor would provide' as if happy thoughts alone could break down the energy shields of a grav tank. Wraithlords we could hold against with our lascannons but if Junayd had a fire prism grav tank ready to go we would be in for a world of hurt. Intelligence officers assured us that there was no evidence to suggest the Eldar had any heavy armour deployed but our intelligence officers could stand out on a sunny day and still claim it would rain. I once heard a general officer proudly claim to an audience 'The intelligence community had some of the best minds of the century available to analyze and resolve an issue.' Then immediately added, 'but sadly, not of this century.'

Our pot of tanna was soon running dangerously low, which usually marked the end of our conversation (or at least a convenient moment to call things off before our brains shut off and we lost our better judgment). A young lady can only stare into that man's eyes for so long before her thoughts drifted away from uniforms infractions to how quickly I could get his uniform off. However, before I could send the Major away with all his clothes, a knock came from the door. I figured the Major would be on his way out I was not worried about appearances so I did not think twice to call the person in. When I saw Inquisitor Hakim walk in, however, I was soon wishing I had hid under my desk and pretended I wasn't in.

"Inquisitor Hakim," I said, slightly surprised. "We haven't seen you in a while. I was beginning to think that Inquisitor Vail had locked you up." Really, there are times when my mouth shouldn't do what my brain tells it to do. Talk about going from bad to worse.

I clearly touched a nerve as he frowned for a brief instant before forcing himself to retain his stoic composure. It was like watching a cat that had just been declawed - a once proud animal now rendered harmless. It took a lot of effort not to let a smirk slip out but I managed to keep a straight face. "I imagine that if Vail had it entirely her way I would have been locked up," Hakim replied as calmly as one would report the evening weather, though one could detect a faint hint of bitterness in his voice. "However, she seems to be content with just locking up all of my staff. Due to the security breach, Vail has her people going over my entire staff with an amplivisor to ensure there are no further security risks. A process that will likely take many, many weeks..."

"Sorry to hear that," I replied, mustering all the sincerity that I could fake. I did feel a little bad that N'hila was probably undergoing some intense scrutiny as a result but there was nothing I could do for her. I had hoped that this meant that Hakim would be out of our hair but just because he had no underlings at the moment, doesn't mean that there wasn't a large pool of qualified sycophants standing by. I quickly got the impression that Hakim hadn't come all this way just to relay the good news and it was a fear that was soon realized.

"I'm sure you both are," replied Hakim with total apathy. "Frankly I would rather have nothing to do with any of you but Vail's actions have left me in the uncomfortable position of having to ask for your assistance." I could tell he was trying to be diplomatic (though he was doing a piss-poor job at it) and I was forced to continue pretending that his presence didn't put me on edge. I had managed to avoid the consequences of my reckless compassion but I still felt like I was standing before the guillotine.

"The Imperial Guard is always ready to serve His Majesty's Holy Inquisition," replied Broklaw but the Inquisitor was utterly indifferent to his presence. Alarms began going off in my head when I noticed that Hakim was staring at and speaking to me directly rather than addressing the Major. The Inquisitor had no interest in Broklaw or, as I suspected, the 597th. Indeed, there was a reason that the Inquisitor had come to my office and my office alone.

"I will keep that in mind Major," Hakim replied, glancing to him for a brief instant before focusing his sights on me once again. "As we speak, Inquisitor Vail and Commissar Cain are continuing the investigation following leads that have arisen as a result of the recent events."

"And let me guess, she left you behind without so much as a vox channel to reach her," I speculated with great, concealed amusement. From what I could understand of Inquisitional protocols, Vail didn't have sufficient justification to bar Hakim from continuing his operations on the planet. However, without a team and having been left in the dark meant that it would take forever for him to catch up on his own. Most people would've taken that as a hint to sit back and take a short vacation but Hakim was clearly ignoring the memo. His pride was obviously making the decisions as he didn't strike me as a flag-waving idealist like Heilmit.

"How astute," the Inquisitor murmured, his pride taking another hit as the insult to his honour was practically pinned to his lapel in bright fluorescence letters. "I would have preferred to seek out Commissar Cain but Vail seems to have a monopoly on him...in more ways than one. Cain, however, did speak highly of you Miss Abel. And since you are the foremost expert on the Eldar Kyriese available to me, you are the most logical choice. Will you assist me?" Now remember, an Inquisitor doesn't have to ask for anything. Even the Adeptus Astartes and the Adeptus Mechanicus must yield to the demands of an Inquisitor (though politeness and respect are still advised unless one wants to be tossed out the nearest airlock). As a mere commissar, I had no real choice other than how enthusiastically I agreed to the request.

"Of course, I am ready to serve His Majesty's Inquisition in any capacity," I answered with as much feigned enthusiasm as I could muster.

"Excellent. And you can bring that aide of yours along...Warts or whatever his name is. N'hila said he was competent and dedicated." I imagine Watz would have had a chuckle if he heard how Hakim described him. Watz never considered himself anything more than an opportunistic lay about who only really worked hard to either keep alive or avoid other kinds of work. He was dedicated to me because working as an aide kept him far away from the frontlines and I was one of the only commissars in the galaxy that would put up with his attitude. As far as he was concerned, that alone was worth dying to protect. I, of course, saw things slightly differently - I saw an indispensable aide whose blunt honesty was a welcomed change and whose courage had saved my arse time and time again. I knew if I asked him to, Watz would tag along but he wouldn't like it either and I would not hear the end of it. Still, short of a squad of space marines there were few people I would trust to watch my back.

"Correct me if I'm wrong Inquisitor but wouldn't it be more prudent to pursue the threat posed by the heretics? You are of the Ordo Hereticus after all," I asked in an attempt to garner an idea of what the Inquisitor's plans were...if any at all.

"Indeed you are correct," Hakim nodded. "While the Eldar remain a major concern, I believe it is the heretics who pose the greatest long-term threat to this world." Of course, it wasn't just Hakim who thought this but Inquisitor Vail as well. And while all Orders of the Inquisition were technically equals, there still existed a sort of rivalry between them. I doubt a member of the Ordo Hereticus liked the idea of losing a heretic to a member of the Ordo Xenos.

"Then why do you need me?"

"A precaution. Kyriese is still a player in all this and so long as his motives remain unknown, his actions or potential actions could influence the outcome." Which meant I remained the viable counter to him, though whether Hakim planned to use me as a lure or a shield he did not specify. As expected, Hakim was not prepared to rule out Kael as a major threat despite the Eldar's insistence otherwise. And I was definitely not feeling confident enough to try and argue the point with the Inquisitor. Fortunately, so long as the threat of heretics doesn't lead to a dead-end, then Hakim will remain focused on them.

"So what's our first move?" I asked in order to get an idea of how much work I had to look forward to.

"If it is true that the heretics have managed to maintain a foothold on Erebus despite our efforts then it is likely that there have been details we have overlooked in our pursuit of the Eldar that need to be re-examined," Hakim explained. However, all that he said was a fancy way of saying that he had no goddamn clue where to begin so he was starting over completely. He was definitely determined to say as little as possible. And I didn't want to be lashed to a sinking vessel given how badly this particular captain wanted to go down with it.

Despite the conversation having nothing to do with him, Broklaw had remained in his seat in contemplative silence. His refusal to depart, however, I would quickly be thankful for as he spoke up suddenly. "I just had a thought," Broklaw said, addressed more to me than to the Inquisitor. "According to Kyriese, the Eldar started the war in order to stop the heretics from becoming too powerful. And they did that by provoking a schism in the Adeptus Mechanicus. Now we've been operating on the assumption that the Eldar are now attacking Imperial interests...but what if they are still targeting heretics?"

"Interesting theory Major," I replied, "but one of those giant Eldar robots tried to stomp me flat and they've been blowing up our stuff."

"True but only because we showed up. We've been standing squarely between them and the Adeptus Mechanicus."

"If you have a point, Major, please make it," Hakim insisted with obvious impatience.

"What if the war didn't expose all the heretics? What if some have remained hidden on our side of the battlefield? I mean, how certain are we of the tech-priest around us? The entire Mechanicus could have been corrupt and would have willingly sacrificed half their numbers just to ensure their continued survival. We could be protecting a whole slew of heretics this whole time without realizing it."

"If there had been heretics hidden amongst our numbers we would have noticed," Hakim insisted.

"And how long did that heretic spy remain hidden amongst your own retinue?" Broklaw quickly countered with great efficacy. The Inquisitor fell silent, withdrawing his objection and taking a moment to consider the Major's words.

"Listen, we all assumed that all the heretics showed their true colours when the war broke out but they're ruthless enough to sacrifice their own in order to further their plans," Broklaw continued. "For all we know, Magos Aureus could have been a heretic and that was the reason the Eldar assassinated him. How certain are you of the tech-priests here?"

"I am an Inquisitor - everybody is suspect..."

* * *

Now while Hakim had the luxury of operating with the assumption that anyone and everyone was guilty of something, it was hard for the Imperial Guard to operate without some idea as to who were the baddies and who were our allies. We had been operating on the assumption that all the remaining tech-priests were on the side of the Emperor by simple fact that they had won the war. The idea that there were heretics on both sides of the conflict hadn't crossed our minds and until the Major brought it up, we had no reason to think we had been protecting anyone other than Emperor-fearing servants of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Now that the possibility of deception at a grand scale was up for discussion, it did offer a valid explanation for the Eldar's behaviour...though one could say that trying to explain Eldar behaviour in human terms was a fool's errand in itself.

Nonetheless, in light of Broklaw's suggestion, Hakim and I agreed that our best starting point was to speak with the tech-priest in charge to get a better account of the events that led up to the war. Well, I said we should speak with him; Hakim wanted to interrogate him. I managed to convince him otherwise by explaining that a full-scale interrogation would reveal our hand to any heretics in hiding. Our best bet in catching them was to allow the enemy to keep thinking they held the advantage. I was surprised that a logical and well-reasoned argument was so well-received by the Inquisitor. Perhaps Miss Vail had left some sense of cooperation behind like the haze left over from a bombing run. The downside to my brilliant plan, however, was the tech-priest in question.

And to absolutely no surprise, tech-priest Zalanskos was about as thrilled to entertain our questions as a priest would be on taking questions from an ork. Were it not for the assistance of his Administratum aide, Anagyros, we probably would never have found his personal workshop, where he apparently spent most of his hours like some kind of xenophobic mad scientist.

"Oh for Cog's sake! Who in blazes let you two tubers in?" greeted the tech-priest, the epitome of cheerfulness as usual. He stood on the opposite side of a worktable from us with his glowing, beady optics just visible over the dismantled heavy bolter he was working on. The air in his workshop was thick with smoke and fumes and the stench of grease and oil hung like soiled linen on a clothesline, promptly making me grateful that I had my gasmask handy.

"Your secretary let us in," Hakim replied having been barely deterred by the harsh tongue of a cog-boy.

"Of course he would," Zalanskos murmured before adding bitterly, "Have to cooperate with the Inquisition after all. Well what is it that you want?"

Since the Inquisitor had all the diplomatic grace of an unguided missile, I quickly intervened before he ruined any hope of getting useful information out of the tech-priest. If he was a heretic and we provoked it from him, there was no telling what mechanical surprises lay hidden beneath his robes. "We've hit a bit of a brick wall so we're retracing our steps in hopes of finding evidence of Eldar activity we may have overlooked." Being the highest ranking tech-priest available, he would have access to the most information plus I knew how to deal with him despite how irritating he could be. There was always the chance he'd lie straight to our faces but sometimes the lies could be just as telling as the truth.

"So why bother me? If you want info you're better off talking to Anagyros...he's the one who keeps track of most of the shit happening around here," Zalanskos replied.

By the look on Hakim's face, he was seconds from pulling everyone's favourite Inquisitional trump card so I once again decided to cut in to keep things civil. "True...but who wants to spend their time talking to a dull, recaf-slurping Administratum drone who doesn't know his arse from a solenoid?" I explained while trying to sound as flattering as possible. "We need fresh perspective, not somebody reciting after-action reports verbatim. You know...somebody who actually knows what he's doing and not just following the other tech-priests around like electric sheep."

The butter had been sufficiently applied and Zalanskos became a lot more agreeable, at least when I asked the questions. "Oh very well," the tech-priest said reluctantly. "What exactly is it you wish to know Commissar Abel?"

For a brief moment, I was uncertain if I should continue with the questioning. It was Hakim's investigation after all and I did not know which question exactly he wanted answers for. However, when I casted a sideways glance to the Inquisitor he gestured for me to continue. He must've recognized that Zalanskos was more responsive towards me, which was odd since I had always considered myself to be the least charismatic of any group. Perhaps spending so much time around Commissar Cain had caused some of his diplomatic skills to rub off on me. "We suspect that the Eldar played a significant role in instigating the recent civil war," I began. "We were hoping that you could run us through some the details of the events leading up to the war. Figuring out where the Eldar exerted their influence could help us decipher their motives."

"Normally I'd say that's a question better directed at the scrapyard rejects that made the mess in the first place but Aureus was the last of them still kicking around," Zalanskos replied. Despite answering my question with minimal fuss, I noticed that his mechadendrites were still toiling away on the heavy bolter even without his eyes being focus on it. Our whole conversation was interrupted by the occasional high-pitch whirl of his mounted drills and the flashes from his arc welder and laser cutters made it hard for my eyes to stay fixated on the tech-priest. Most people were polite enough to stop their work when engaged in an important discussion but that made the erroneous assumption that tech-priests were like the rest of us. Most that I've met tended to view organic 'analog' conversations as slow and inefficient, thus unworthy of their full attention if there were other pressing matters at hand. Few exemplified that viewpoint like Zalanskos.

"All the ruling Magi at the time are dead?" I asked for clarification. I would not have been surprised if most had been killed but for the entire senior ruling body of tech-priests to have been replaced in such a short time had worrying implications. Hasty promotions in order to fill vacuums in the command structure has a notorious reputation for putting people in charge who would normally not be considered fit to lead a parade. Once again, Zalanskos provided a prime example as he seemed completely uninterested in the responsibilities that came with such authority.

"Those that had turned away from the Emperor had been given their punishment as required by Imperial law," Hakim answered. "Those not killed in the fighting, I hunted down personally."

"I guess it's too much to hope for that you kept a few of them alive enough to talk?" I asked rhetorically.

"If I had thought there to be anything worth hearing from them, I would have," he explained in quick defence. I suspected that the Inquisitor simply didn't care in his overzealous enthusiasm to purge every heretic within a quarter-mile radius. "Besides, it is unlikely that they would have realized who their true masters had been." The last part rang true for both the Eldar and the Ruinous Powers. The heretical tech-priests would probably have answered 'Merari' anyways since that had been the answer from every other heretic questioned.

"Of the twenty-two Magi forming the ruling council, only eight remained faithful to the true will of the Omnissiah," Zalanskos added. "Frankly, I think The Inquisition should've executed the whole lot of them. Of the remaining faithful, only three survived to the war's end. As you know, Aureus was killed by the Eldar and the other two were killed in accidents during recovery operations...which, now that I think about it, probably weren't accidents."

"Sounds like somebody was cleaning house," I remarked. Now it could have been the Eldar attempting to hide the evidence of their manipulations but I suspected that it had more to do with their current strategies. If there was still heresy within the tech-priests, then the Eldar could have been attempting to remove the corrupted influence. Of course, there was absolutely no evidence of what their ultimate goal was and I could have spent all day writing a dissertation on the subject.

"Kyriese said the heretics were deliberately interfering with his ability to foresee the future. The Eldar could be attempting to disrupt the heretic's command structure but have no idea who specifically to target," I whispered to Hakim when the tech-priest was momentarily distracted by his work.

"If that's true, then it would explain why they need the Imperial Guard to remain focused on the Eldar," Hakim agreed with a nod.

"Focus on who?" Zalanskos spoke up, clearly having caught Hakim's last few words.

"He said it was important for the Guard to focus on protecting the major figures of the forgeworld's operation since that's what the Eldar seem to be focusing on," I quickly replied. I probably said more than what was needed but my over-embellishment proved to be most fortuitous.

"Heh, maybe this Eldar nonsense is what's got Mr. Sinstre so spooked," he commented with a slight chuckle.

It was likely just an aside but since I only heard half of what was said due to another high-pitch whir, I had to inquire, "I'm sorry...who?"

"Evandar Sinstre, last of the so-called 'nobles' of Erebus," Zalanskos explained, briefly using his mechadendrites to make an air quote gesture to signify what he thought of the title. "He's a sleazy bald-headed merchant who made his fortune in commercial shipping. Whole slew of these money-worshipping meatsacks came in after a failed Ork invasion back in M32, invested in reconstruction efforts, set up trade routes, and have basically entrenched themselves into the political landscape ever since. The fighting during the invasion left the forgeworld in almost as much of a mess as you guys have. Their money and fleets helped speed up the reconstruction by centuries...but there was a catch to their 'help.' Now, nothing leaves this planet except on one of their cargo vessels. It's been a love-hate relationship ever since. They rarely saw eye-to-optic with the Magi but Erebus wouldn't be where it is today were it not for their assistance. Hell, a part of the reason the Magi council got its tendrils in such a twist was because those sycophants wanted greater control over what was produced on Erebus. They said 'the demands should dictate the supply.' Aureus and his supporters were adamant that only the will of the Machine God can dictate the course of a forgeworld."

"They started a war over that?" I replied.

"Not just that - there was a number of other issues involving economics, tithes, production schedules, forge access, and compensations. Overall, though, the merchant-nobles wanted more control and they had enough magi in their pockets to get it," Hakim explained to me. I had hoped for something a little more interesting but sometimes wars broke out over the dullest of reasons. I wondered for a moment how a disagreement over policies could end up with a war but then I reminded myself that the Eldar were involved and that they likely poked the situation with a giant, hornet-covered stick. "I don't recall seeing that name coming up in my investigations though."

"That's because he was the only one of them smart enough to run the hell away. He was arguing alongside all the other nobles but suddenly changed his mind at the last second and sided with Aureus. When the bolts started flying, he made sure all his assets were well out of harm's way. When the Imperial Navy showed up, they made slag out of all the private fleets belonging to the other nobles, leaving Sinstre the only man with money and ships...so you can guess who's going to profit the most once Erebus is back up and running. Or at least he would if he would respond to our messages...haven't been able to get a hold of the bastard for weeks, which is strange considering how much he likes to hear himself talk." The more Zalanskos described the man, the more suspicious he became. Why would a man who was likely as obsessed with wealth as any other noble suddenly change colours and clear out? Noblemen, self-proclaimed or otherwise, were about as likely to change their position on something as a seawall, at least not without outside influence. Perhaps an influence that had the ability to foresee what was to come. This Evandar Sinstre had quickly become a person of interest and judging by the contemplative stare on Hakim's face, he had reached a similar conclusion.

"Well, perhaps I will send a few troops to see if we can find him and offer some protection," I replied in order to keep up the pretence that we were concerned for the man's safety. "Hopefully his absence isn't because the Eldar found him first."

"Indeed...as much as I hate everything the man stands for, Erebus will be in a bind if he's dead," Zalanskos replied with a mixture of reluctance and contempt. "Well, if you find the bastard, tell him to contact my secretary...frakking weasel won't stop pestering me about it."

"We'll be sure to pass on your regards," Hakim said. "I believe we have all the information we need. Thank you for your assistance tech-priest."

"Yeah yeah, when the time comes just don't say I didn't help," Zalanskos said dismissively with a wave of one of his free mechadendrites. The Inquisitor and I turned to leave but just as we reached the exit, the noise in the room suddenly fell silent. "Wait a second!" shouted the tech-priest before ushering us to return to his worktable. "I almost forgot, I was going through some records the other day and I found out that 'Hounds of Erebus' reference you asked about earlier. I was going to send a message to that Major fellow but since you're here you can pass it along."

"So what are the Hounds of Erebus?" I asked.

"It is an old nickname belonging to the Legio Infernus of the Adeptus Mechanicus Collegia Titanica" he answered with a hint of pride.

"Erebus has a Titans legion?"

"Of course we have one!" Zalanskos snapped back. "Every self-respecting forgeworld has one. That particular name hasn't been used in a long time but then again I don't really follow the chest-thumping that goes on between the legions. Needless to say, they are a force to be reckoned with."

"And where is the Legion now?" I asked with growing concern. Anything to do involving Eldar, Chaos, and titans was not going to be a small-scale affair. The possibilities were terrifying to think about and it served as good motivation to do something while all players were still people-sized.

Unfortunately, Zalanskos shrugged his shoulder and many mechadendrites. "Somewhere near the Eye of Terror I presume. They were supposed to be returning to Erebus for overhauls and repairs in the near future so hopefully we'll have enough of our facilities up and running again to get the job done. So please make sure you and those damn xenos don't blow up any more of our stuff, okay?"

"I will do whatever is necessary to serve the Emperor's will," Hakim said, dismissing the tech-priests concern as we headed out. Of course he didn't care about collateral damage; he didn't have orders from Segmentum Command stating that the production capacity of the forgeworld was to be protected at all costs. And he most certainly wouldn't be among those stuck listening to some neck-bearded old general give a scolding lecture when Erebus was reduced to rubble, followed by a round of summary executions for good measure (and 'the Inquisitor did it' is never a valid excuse). Perhaps, though, I was being too selfish with my possibly heretical desire to not being executed and I reminded myself that the Inquisition had to take into account an even larger picture that a commissar. If destroying a forgeworld and depriving an entire sector of eighty percent of its industrial production was needed to deprive the Ruinous Powers of their prize, then who would suggest otherwise? Aside from the hundreds of billions of lives that would suffer as a result. I wondered how anyone could make such decisions and still keep going the next morning. Alas, that would be a question that would plague my life years in later years.

"Well, I'd say that was enlightening," I remarked once Hakim and I were alone in the hall. "Do you think the Legio Infernus is the heretic's intended target?"

"The corruption of an entire titan legion would be a considerable prize for any heretical cur seeking to curry favour from the Dark Gods," Hakim confirmed. "But I can prevent that with a single message...so, no...this can't be the only goal of theirs. We must press on and find this Evandar Sinstre."

"He certainly has been having a lot of luck for someone living on a planet that is routinely getting the short end of the stick," I remarked. "Shall we go see what his good luck charm is?"

"I will need to make some calls in order to find the man's whereabouts. Meet me back at the regimental HQ's motor pool in two hours."

* * *

Despite my negative feelings towards Inquisitor Hakim, I will admit that the man got things done. Two hours later, as promised, Hakim was at the motor pool ready to head out with a destination ready. Without any staff, I had to provide the muscle in case of an emergency so Heilmit and Watz joined our little outing. I kept the numbers small since I didn't want to announce our arrival with a parade of noisy chimeras just in case we found more heretics with rocket launchers. As we loaded into the centaur, Hakim briefed us on our destination. The aforementioned calls he made were to planet's office of the Adeptus Arbites...or what was left of it after it had been hit by a 'Sweet Suzie,' the affectionate nickname of the twenty tonne bomb that was dropped through the skylight. Alas, the navy had no spare flower bouquets that said 'sorry I blew up your lobby' as those were reserved solely for nobles and high-level Adminstratum officials.

Despite missing half of their headquarters, the Adeptus Arbites were still able to provide some information on our man. As it turned out, the Arbites had files on all the wealthy merchants on Erebus. Apparently they operated on the mentality that there was no such thing as an honest merchant. Then again who wouldn't be concerned when all commercial traffic was controlled by a bunch of greedy merchant families with egos that were only outmatched by the size of the bank accounts? Firstly, the information provided confirmed what Zalanskos had said about the merchant. Evandar Sinstre stood to become one of the wealthiest men in the sector thanks to the Imperial Navy scuttling all his competitors. What survived of the competition he bought up at discount. He had controlling interests in most of the remaining starports and would likely finance the construction of new yards in the years ahead. But for such a prominent figure, he was hard to keep track of. But who could keep track of one greedy son of a bitch on a planet of billions with enough underground tunnels to build a bridge back to Holy Terra. Most of his residence was fortunate to have avoided being reduced to a pile of rubble but if he had been sitting comfortably in his den sipping on a glass of amasec then we wouldn't have had to ask the Adeptus Arbites for assistance.

Instead, they directed us to a location that was supposedly a former hotspot for him and other wealthy nobles with too much money and too much free time on their hands. It was a bar or a club of some sort with a name that doubled as slang for a woman's nether regions. In short, it was the kind of place that I would execute soldiers for even considering stepping through its doors and I took some pleasure when I saw the crater that used to be the front door. Also, Evandar was a co-owner of the place so it could have some clues as to other hideaways of his.

"If this building so much as quivers, I'm leaving," Watz remarked after he parked the centaur.

"This is the courage and stalwart dedication of the Imperial Guard?" Hakim remarked, making no attempt to conceal his disdain for the Guard.

"Corporal Watz's bravery and loyalty are without question," I hastily defended. "If I ordered him to shoot you, he would do so without hesitation."

"Who says you'd need to order me?" Watz added before hopping out of the vehicle. Short of a space marine, I don't think I have ever met a man who has engaged in a shouting match with an ork nob...and won (bolters scream louder). Hakim didn't look impressed but he didn't say anything as we headed for the club ruins. Much to our collective relief, the building looked to be structurally sound. The club was nestled between some large hab-spires, inconspicuous unless you knew what you were looking for and the only indication of its existence, a simple old metal sign, laid in pieces at my feet.

"Cesspools like these are breeding grounds for heretical cults," Hakim said as he kicked away a charred metal 'c' left over from the sign. "They attract the idle, the discontent, the feeble, and the weak-willed. They pose as harmless ways to vent frustrations or find new pleasures...slowly twisting and corrupting their desires until they have been brought completely to the sway of heresy."

"Let's hope Evandar was dumb enough to leave a forwarding address," I said with a growing sense of enthusiasm. "Watz, Heilmit...it'll be tight down there so be ready for CQC."

"Ahhh...I love those words," Heilmit said excitedly, grabbing his shotgun from the back of the centaur. Unlike all the xenos we had to face, heretics were an opponent that we could take fairly easily in a close-quarters fight. Tack on Kriegan hatred for all things heretical and a fight inside the tight confines of a building against heretics was our idea of a great night out. It was a good thing we came prepared because we weren't going to be disappointed.

I just wish I had brought more people.


	11. ELEVEN

**ELEVEN**

Despite my eagerness to waltz with heretics in the bowels of the forgeworld, a growing sense of dread accompanied me as we descended down a narrow staircase. It wasn't just because the lack of power meant we had to go down a staircase that was too narrow for fire safety regulations (assuming they had any on Erebus) and it wasn't because the lack of lighting prevented us from barely seeing three feet ahead of us without the aid of our handheld luminators. It wasn't even because those two things in combination were rapidly pushing me towards full-scale hysteria due to my claustrophobia. No, no, no, no. It was the fact that we were so far below the surface that there was absolutely no chance anything short of a pinpoint orbital strike inflicting any damage to this facility. This facility was more like a bunker than a night club and if it did serve as a heretical hang-out, then it was a perfect spot for them to take refuge. There was absolutely no way of telling how many people could be lurking at the bottom of the stairwell.

Speaking of the bottom of the stairwell, if there was one then we weren't going to find it so much as it was going find us. Even with Heilmit's luminator lighting the way, we couldn't tell when or where this staircase ended. Now in case you're wondering why we're not being more cautious when descending the stairs, I was being accompanied by two fully armed and armoured Kriegan soldiers complete with full webbing and gasmask filtration systems. So unless the heretics were blasting death metal over vox amplifiers anything within a mile radius was going to hear us approaching; stealth was not an option. Inquisitor Hakim wasn't any more subtle either. While he wasn't clad in power armour, he was wearing some armour plating that made carapace armour seem flimsy. Throw in some bolt pistols and concealed lightning claws and Hakim was most certainly not a man I would want to run into in a dark alley or dark, narrow stairwell. Let's throw in 'on a brightly lit staircase' too if we're going to be honest.

In the front, Heilmit was clearly starting to grow impatient. He had been subtly speeding up his descent despite my instructions to proceed slowly. "This is ridiculous," he grumbled. "How far down does this bleeding stairwell g-oh shit!" I was just about to smack the smart-mouth on the back of his head when all of a sudden he suddenly vanished into the darkness. The long series of bangs, thumps, clangs, and cusses that followed suit as he tumbled down the stairs. If there was anybody down there waiting for us, I could guarantee they weren't expecting that kind of an entrance. On the bright side, we now knew how much further we had to go since the ruckus stopped after only a few seconds and we could see the faint glow of Heilmit's luminator at the bottom. The rest of us froze, expecting the next sound to be a hail of gunfire tearing our comrade apart. Instead, we heard, "I'm good; it's clear..."

"Spike, you frakking, clumsy, left-footed, spazoid idiot! Be more careful. You could've screwed the whole mission up," Watz shouted back with the usual Kriegan concern for his friend's well-being.

"Looks like he slipped on something," I remarked as I aimed my luminator down. The reason for Heilmit's tumble became obvious as the red smear of blood contrasted starkly with the white-tiled steps. "And that blood is definitely fresh."

"Probably Ziggy's," Heilmit shouted back. The obvious 'who?' didn't need to be verbalized so we simply continued down the stairs until we found Heilmit and who we assumed to be Ziggy. Ziggy just so happened to be a decapitated corpse. "Ziggy was nice enough to break my fall," he added.

Hakim paused briefly to examine Ziggy, but judging by his simplistic attire it wasn't the man we were looking for. It took a moment or two before Watz found the head laying several feet away but that yielded no extra information so he simply punted it into the corner. "It looks like Ziggy was fumbling about on the stairs when his assailant struck, taking his head off with one quick, clean strike from a chainsword. This is a very fresh kill; the assailant or assailants may still be inside."

Thankfully, even without that warning, Watz and Heilmit had already taken defensive positions in front of us, sweeping their luminators from side to side to cover the points of entry into the room. They were as calm as one could expect from Kriegan soldiers but the manner of Ziggy's death left me concerned. The corpse had a holstered pistol on his hip so whoever killed him did so without being seen, which given the dimensions of the stairwell would have been damn near impossible; for a human at least.

"We need to keep moving," Hakim said as he motioned for us to follow.

The main room of the facility had some power left in it as the overhead luminators provided a faint light. It wasn't bright by any stretch of the imagination but it was enough that we could douse our luminators. There was no telling how deep the structure went, but the maze like layout inside now gave us an outside chance of taking any heretics by surprise (or more specifically whoever took out Ziggy). Due to Heilmit's novel attempt of getting the drops on our quarry, Watz insisted on taking point and led us from what appeared to be the foyer and reception area into one of the back hallways. Despite the cold steel and gothic stone architecture of the stairwell, inside one could feel the decadence oozing from the deep burgundy walls, which were adorned with brass light fixtures, marble busts, and the occasional painting depicting people engaged in rather scandalous group activities. Even the floors cost more than I'd ever make in a lifetime - pure hardwood flooring polished to a shine. I had seen governor's palaces that didn't look this expensive. Were it not for the reminder of my gasmask, I would have completely forgotten that we were on a smoggy, rust-covered forgeworld.

The next room, a large open lounge, ruined the pristine atmosphere that I was beginning to enjoy. If I had to guess, we arrived in the cocktail lounge as there was a still-stocked bar on one side and an assortment of couches and high-tables. There was even a table for playing cards, though it had been broken apart along with most of the other pieces of furniture present.

"Somebody had a party without us," Watz remarked sounding almost disappointed that the level of carnage we were observing had not been caused by us. There about a dozen bodies scattered across the broken furniture, almost all of them appeared to have died in the same manner as Ziggy and most of them still with weapons in their holsters.

"Quick, efficient, and ruthless," I commented as I surveyed the damage. From what I could discern, the nearest pile of bodies were killed by surprise, followed shortly by the people on the far side of the room, who barely had enough time to draw before being killed. The scorch marks on the walls beside me suggested that the body slumped over the bar managed to at least get a few shots off but there was no sign of anybody being injured where I stood. "You think maybe Vail and Cain got here first?"

"Not likely," Watz spoke up first. "These poor bastards were gunned down with shuriken fire. This was definitely the handiwork of the Eldar."

"Well frak," I grumbled. The likelihood of Eldar completely changed my outlook and enthusiasm for the mission. While heretics in close quarters were an easy challenge, with the Eldar I had to be extremely cautious or I would end up like Ziggy. Of course I had to pretend that this news was no big deal despite a growing urge to bolt for the nearest exit. Before we could complete a thorough search of the bodies, the once quiet confines of the club became unsettlingly loud. The rattle of gunfire echoed through the walls followed by the bang of a grenade. So much for the hardwood flooring. Even though a part of me wanted to go in the opposite direction and wait until the noise died down, we all knew that if we were to have any hope of finding Sinstre, we had to get to him before the Eldar did. Watz took point as we hurried into the next hallway, moving towards the source of the gunfire. The hallways did a good job of funnelling the noise, making it easier to tell which way we had to go. By my estimate, we were probably about a few rooms away when Watz rounded the corner to a nasty surprise.

"Contact!" he shouted as he quickly dove back behind cover as a hail of shuriken fire erupted from down the hall. "Four Eldar, guardians I think."

"Take the other side," I instructed as I pushed my way to the front. We were at a T-intersection so I quickly fired several shots blindly around the corner, allowing Watz and Heilmit to rush to the opposite corner. I managed to take a quick peek around the corner and saw a trio of Eldar soldiers at the far end of the hall. I felt a strange sense of relief when I saw they wore the green and white armour of the Biel-tan Eldar so I didn't need to feel bad about killing them (not that I could feel bad about killing xenos that were trying to kill me). "We have to push through them!" We were obviously fighting a rear-guard, which meant the Eldar at the front of the offensive were going to soon be aware of our arrival.

"Then stand aside," Hakim said firmly as he drew his pistol. I knew Inquisitors possessed a certain level of bravery that was uncommon in most humans but I had no idea what he was thinking as he pushed me aside. Four enemies in a narrow hallway with no cover was something only a space marine would take the direct approach. Hakim didn't even give me to time to call him crazy before he stepped into the hall. As expected, shuriken fire erupted immediately, followed by the four, sharp cracks of a bolt pistol...and then silence. "Time to keep moving."

"Uhh...why aren't you dead?" Heilmit remarked in awe as we continued forward, passing by four dead Eldar.

"The Emperor protects the faithful," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"So do energy shields," Watz added cynically as he moved to take point again. Realizing the simplest answer was likely the correct one, as well as an obvious one. Inquisitors were, after all, well equipped and always full of surprises. Unfortunately, the surprise of seeing Hakim walk through a hail of shurikens distracted me from realizing just how quiet it had suddenly become.

"Shit! The gunfire's stopped!" I exclaimed as we bolted down the hall. Thankfully, even without the noise to follow, there were plenty of dead bodies, human ones unfortunately, to guide our way. They led us to a large set of double-doors with a blood-splattered VIP sign. Judging by the voices on the other side of the door, we had little time to act in order to prevent this mission from being a complete failure.

"You will tell me what I want to know mon'keigh or I swear by Khaine's bloody hand I shall have it torn from your mind!" I wish I could that I recognized the voice but I paid little attention to how Eldar sounded with the exception of Kael. If I had I wouldn't have been so eager to bust down the door. I signaled for Watz and Heilmit to cover left of the door while Hakim and I would handle anything on the right. Hakim, protected by his conversion field, breeched the door with a round through the latch followed by an over-dramatic strike from his size twelve waffle-stompers. If there had been an opportunity for a 'drop your guns' Hakim didn't bother as he immediately opened fire at the nearest Eldar soldier. There had been about a half-dozen Eldar in the room but now there was one less as Hakim hit his target square in the chest. The remaining were caught in the open without cover and opted to try and make a desperate last stand. We were more than happy to ensure the 'last' part.

In the centre of the room was the only Eldar who avoided our barrage as he held onto a human shield - a snivelling whelp of a man who looked like he was ready to drop a brick into his trousers. I bet under normal circumstances Hakim would not have allowed a hostage to stand between him and a target but we needed the man alive, especially since he knew something the Eldar wanted. I was less concerned about the human shield than I was about the Eldar holding it. It was the Autarch Junayd himself and despite knowing he held a clear advantage he did not open with his shuriken pistol.

"Drop the weapon xeno!" I shouted. I doubt that the Eldar would even consider my ultimatum but it felt like the right thing to say nonetheless.

"So...the humans have finally managed to open their eyes enough to notice a bigger threat is indeed stalking them," Junayd remarked defiantly. His pistol trained on Hakim at first but it switched between targets every few seconds. If he were a human, I would have felt perfectly confident putting a laser bolt square between his eyes but the Eldar had faster reflexes than humans. Ever since witnessing Kael's banshee friend run through a hail of gunfire, I was slightly less confident in my marksmanship when it came to the Eldar.

"Hand over the hostage and we may feel merciful enough to let you walk out of here," I replied, again doubtful that my words would be met with anything other than contempt. "We know the servants of Chaos are the real threat here and they will win if we keep fighting each other!" I wish I could say that my attempt at negotiating was a genuine call to reason but the truth was I was terrified at the thought of fighting the Autarch. He went toe-to-toe with Commissar Cain and held his own not to mention his ability to teleport meant he was more of a danger to us then we were to him.

"We do not negotiate with xenos, Commissar," Hakim reminded me in a scolding tone. In hindsight, my last remark could very easily have been interpreted as blasphemy and earn me a one-gun salute on the spot.

"Of course you wouldn't," Junayd replied mockingly. "The complexities of diplomacy are beyond that pitiful knot of neurons you call a brain."

"To bow to the demands of xenos is heresy. And why should we negotiate when we have you outnumbered and outgunned?"

Unfortunately, as it turned out the Autarch had merely been stalling for time while his reserve forces moved into position. No sooner had Hakim finished his rhetoric, several small flashes accompanied a half-dozen warp spiders teleporting in around us. The tables had turned quite spectacularly and I was regretted not taking the shot when I had the opportunity. I was able to quickly count six warp spiders, four ahead and two blocking our exit. But for some reason despite having the upper hand, Junayd did not have his men reduce us to a red mist. "Take this human back to the seer," the Autarch instructed as he shoved the cowering human to the nearest soldier. "Now...what to do with you lot..."

"Well if you're going to kill us, just get it over with. Listening to you talk is cruel punishment," Watz said in his usual defiant manner. Leave it to a Kriegan to complain that you're not killing him fast enough. I had far more sense than to encourage the Eldar to move it along.

Since I had no other option, an appeal to reason was the only real chance I had if I were to have any hope to survive the next five minutes. At that point I didn't care how blasphemous I might've sounded because if I didn't succeed I would be way too dead to care what the Inquisitor thought of my words. "Killing us is only going to make it easier for Chaos to succeed here," I insisted in a desperate plea. "We're better equipped to track down heretics than your people. Give us that man and we can find the source of the corruption."

Hakim, as expected, didn't approve of my methods. "What did I just say about negotiating with-"

"Be silent!" Junayd shouted. Since words would likely not be sufficient to keep an Inquisitor quiet, one of the warp spiders bashed Hakim on the head with his rifle. I must admit it was amusing to watch but I couldn't allow myself to get distracted. Given that Hakim was the only one with a protective shield, I wouldn't have put it past him to start shooting and take his chances. Obviously, the rest of us would've objected to such a stunt so I was partially relieved to see the Inquisitor knocked to the floor for a little while. "Now tell me Commissar, why should I even consider your words when you've been chasing ghosts," the Autarch mused.

"Because you're chasing the same ghosts too," I replied. "And I'm willing to bet my life you don't have a goddamn clue where that threat is either. That's why you're willing to personally lead a raid into a dingy, back-alley club in the middle of Imperial-controlled territory."

"I have some of the best seers of the craftworld Biel-tan advising me!" It appeared for all their vaunted superiority, a prideful Eldar reacted the same way as a human when their ego was challenged. If I goaded him further, he'd slip up and maybe I could extract some information from him. That plan, of course, hinged on me surviving.

"And yet all roads still keep leading to Merari - a man who doesn't exist," I said. Junayd's momentary pause told me that my guess was dead accurate. "You don't know who you're looking for any more than we were...except I have a name. I know who to look for." Attempting to bluff an Eldar wasn't the craziest plan I had ever concocted but it was a top-ten hit at the moment.

"Then I shall simply take you instead," Junayd said as he motioned for a guard to apprehend me.

Before they could make a move, however, I jammed my laspistol under my chin. "Not so fast xeno. One more step and that name gets splattered across the wall." I prayed to the Emperor that the Eldar didn't try to call my bluff since I had no desire to die nor would that death actually hinder their plans. At first it appeared as though they were going to call my bluff so I tightened my finger on the trigger, bringing it to a hair's breadth from firing. Or it would be if I didn't have the safety on, hidden from their view.

"And what exactly does this accomplish?" Junayd asked, skeptically.

"Because something on this planet scares the almighty Eldar enough for them to come in person," I said teasingly. "And it's something that you can't find. If killing myself fraks up your plans then by the Emperor I will frak you one last time. The way I see it, I have two routes available to me to the Emperor Throne and this way lets me arrive with a smile on my face"

"I can find the source of the corruption with or without your information!" Junayd challenged.

"No you won't! Your seers are fumbling in the dark and being fed lies by the Dark Gods."

"You've been talking to that damnable rogue haven't you?" Junayd asked, his voice growing more enraged at the thought of Kael. It seemed that I wasn't the only person that Kael drove mad with his antics. "That damn outcaste! How can you trust a person who has turned his back on his own people?"

"On the contrary, I think it's his dedication to his people that's led him to act in order to save you from yourself." If Kael really was intent on betraying his people, I had no doubt he could have led us straight to Junayd's base of operations. Instead, he was trying to protect us from each other and for the most part, both sides were too trigger-happy to entertain the more deadly but less obvious threat. "Now I have a deal for you."

Though he made no threatening motions, Junayd took a few step towards me. Since he could've been making attempt to disarm, I kept my finger on the trigger and my thumb on the safety. At the slightest hint of a threat, I was ready to turn the pistol on him. The short range would hopefully negate his superior reflexes. I tried not to let his size intimidate me because by the Emperor was he tall. Junayd had to be at least a few inches taller than Cain which meant I'd need a step-ladder just to be face-to-face with the Autarch. I remained as steadfast as possible as I stared into his red-tinted lenses. His penetrating gaze was almost palpable though it was possible he had some psychic ability. "I'm listening," he said cautiously.

"Hand the prisoner over to us. We'll interrogate him, find the man we're looking for, and eliminate the source of the corruption."

"That doesn't sound like much of a deal to me," Junayd replied with understandable doubt.

"Why not? We handle all the leg work, all the fighting, and all the messy stuff that goes along with it. You get to sit back and let us humans do your work for you. I was under the impression that was something the Eldar enjoyed."

"I will not allow inferior beings such as you to deny me the glory of victory!" Junayd barked back. The sudden anger came as a surprise but I was able to handle it without missing a step.

"And which is more important to you? Your pride or the lives of those under your command?" Though every soldier is ready to lay their life down for a greater cause, no soldier wants to hear that the cause is to feed the ego of your commanding officer. The collective gaze of all his troops standing around him seemed to be enough to crack the Eldar's rampaging ego. "Just give us some time to solve this. If it looks like we're not making any progress then you can go right back to your usual plan. Hell, I'll even give you the name so you know who to hunt down."

The Autarch turned silent for the longest time, likely balancing the pros and cons in his mind a thousand times over. I do not doubt that a few times his mind lingered on the idea of just cutting me in half and taking his chances. But then the craziest thing happened - he agreed. "You have a deal mon'keigh," Junayd said as he motioned for his soldiers to bring the heretic over to Watz and Heilmit. "You have a week to produce results or I shall crush you and everything else that stands in my way."

"It'll be easier if you stopped trying to blow our stuff up in the meantime," I added, figuring I had nothing to lose by bargaining for a bit more.

"Done," Junayd agreed without hesitation. "Now give me the name."

"Let my people leave with the prisoner first," I replied. I wasn't dumb enough to give away my one advantage when there were still a half-dozen guns ready to perforate all of my organs.

"Fine...but you stay." If I didn't know any better, I'd swear he sounded a little disappointed I didn't fall for his little trick. The Autarch motioned for the two Eldar barring our exit to step aside then I signaled for my aides and the Inquisitor to leave. Watz was the only one who didn't hesitate to leave, dragging the prisoner along with him. I reassured Heilmit that I would be out momentarily and instructed him to return to base if he didn't hear from me in two minutes. Moments later I was now alone in a room surrounded by Eldar warriors who could still easily change their minds about this deal. An uneasy sense of dread was welling up inside me and I felt oddly flustered with so many eyes fixated on me. "It is curious that I find my sense of disgust for you waning slightly," he commented. I think that was something of a compliment or at least the closest proximity that one could receive from an Eldar.

"Thanks...I think..."

"I can see why Kyriese has become so enamoured with you."

"He's what with me?"

My confusion must have been amusing because the Autarch just let out a hearty chuckle. It was bizarre how Eldar could change moods faster than one could change magazines. "Perhaps 'enamoured' is a bit too strong. But I digress, the name if you'll please."

"Evandar Sinstre."

"Interesting," he murmured. "Now you best run along mon'keigh. I will be watching your movements closely. It will be interesting to see if you do survive." It was weird to see yet another Eldar possess some interest in my continued existence. What was it about me that seemed to garner their interest so frequently? Since a night club was no place to ponder such questions, I hastily made my way out. All that was on my mind at that point was putting as much distance as I could between me and those damnable Eldar. It turned out, however, that I had yet another surprise waiting for me outside.

Waiting outside were Watz and the others but parked beyond my centaur was the unmistakable chassis of scout salamander and standing amongst my people were Inquisitor Vail and Commissar Cain. I suddenly had a bad feeling about how the Ordo Xenos might react to my choice of tactics. "Commissar Abel," Cain called out when he saw me exiting the club. "What took you so long?"

At first I though he was just ribbing me but then I realized that it was entirely possible that Hakim hadn't yet explained what had transpired down below. "I had to use the little Commissar's room," I replied in jest, buying myself time until I knew what their story was. "How did you two wind up here?"

"We've been back-tracing the movements of Hakim's spy," Vail explained. "As it turned out, he apparently enjoyed spending a lot of his ill-gained money at this establishment. We also traced some of that money to the same Evandar Sinstre that Hakim has just mentioned."

"And as I was just telling Vail, the place was recently raided by the Eldar who are likely tracking the same target. This prisoner was the only survivor we managed to recover," Hakim explained, conveniently leaving out all mention of my conversation with them.

"The Eldar probably ran when they heard you coming. How very fortunate for us that the Eldar got sloppy in their haste," Vail said as she walked over to the heretic. "We'll be taking the prisoner back to base for interrogation now."

"Wait a second!" Hakim quickly stepped in, putting himself between Vail and the prisoner. "I captured this heretic. I shall be taking him back to base."

"In that tiny little cart?" Vail replied, most likely with a cocky smirk beneath her gasmask. I took some offence to her calling my centaur a 'little cart' but I wasn't about to step between two Inquisitors. "This area is likely still crawling with Eldar. The prisoner will be safer in the salamander. I'd offer you a ride too but...we're kinda full already. Now be a good boy and just follow us back to base. You wouldn't want to risk another set back due to security lapses, would you?" If anger had a temperature, Hakim's rage would've spontaneously ignited the entire city block. But there was nothing he could do while Vail still had his reputation, and family jewels, in a vice-like grip. She chuckled quietly as she pulled the heretic away from Watz and handed him over to some members of her retinue leaving us with not even our dignity to bring back to base. "Let's roll out people, we've still got a lot of work ahead of us," she shouted as we all returned to our respective vehicles.

"Rotten little Inquisitor bitch is driving off with all our hard work!" Watz grumbled quite vocally as we settled into the centaur.

"Complaining will solve nothing," Hakim said. He was surprising subdued given his usual temperament. "But...that is an apt description of the situation."

"We're still on the same side," I added. I tried to keep things in a positive perspective but I was just as annoyed by it as the others. We were being brushed aside and it came as no surprise when I eventually heard how 'Cain and the Inquisitor brought in a heretic prisoner.' I reminded myself that service to the Emperor was its own reward but it was hard to keep placated with that when you knew somebody else was claiming your service as their own. But there wasn't anything I could do about it since calling Cain or Vail out on it might bring to light the true details of what transpired. One Inquisitor knowing the truth was already one too many.

"Are we?" Hakim asked rhetorically with a harsh glare. "You toed a dangerous line in there Commissar. I suggest you take a moment to remember where your loyalties lie."

"I do what is necessary to serve the Emperor," I shot back angrily. "Unlike some people, I am not letting my pride dictate my actions!"

"How dare you accuse me of such!"

"Right...and you left out the whole deal with the Eldar thing purely to protect me and not because it'd make you look bad." I took Hakim suddenly silence as a sign of victory. I must have been a tad insane arguing with an Inquisitor but frustration and weariness had worn away my patience. The momentary pause, however, did give me a chance to cool down too and regain my composure. "Look on the bright side," I said with a tired sigh. "We've got a prisoner that should have good intel and if we're lucky we'll have the Eldar out of our hair for a few days."

"And what makes you so confident that you can find in a week what has gone hidden for years?" Hakim challenged in the hopes of taking my ego down a bit after his recent verbal beat-down. "We do not even know for certain if the heretic has vital information." He did have a valid point there but I was too stubborn to admit it. I had staked a lot on the heretic having something useful. He did not possess the look or demeanour of a heretical lackey. In fact, judging by how close the man looked to completely voiding his bowels, I was willing to guess he had never done anything more violent than carving a roast for dinner. But whatever he knew; we had to get it out of him.

* * *

Whether it was intentional or not, somewhere in our journey back to base we lost sight of the scout salamander. Hakim was convinced that Vail was trying to beat us back to base to ensure that all credit went to her but I was more inclined to attribute it to the dusty conditions and Jurgen's reckless driving. Whatever the reason, we did not see the scout salamander until we were back at base and by then it was empty and had likely been that way for some time. No doubt Vail was wasting no time in getting the heretic into an interrogation room so she could get the intel and claim all the glory for herself. Hakim was obviously more motivated than I to put a stop to this but he dragged me along for the ride nonetheless.

Thankfully, I knew exactly where the interrogation room was as a new, temporary one had been constructed using an old office just down the hall from mine. Unfortunately, when we caught up to Vail and the others we were already too late. They had the prisoner locked in the room and Vail and Cain were standing by the observation room. "Don't tell me you guys were waiting for us before getting the party started," I said half-jokingly as Hakim and I joined them.

"We were just letting him stew a bit," Vail explained, gazing at the prisoner like a cat hovering its prey.

"Any reason you haven't brought out your psyker yet?" Hakim asked.

"Oh...there's no need to wake up Rakel just yet," she replied. I didn't know Rakel personally but Cain had described her as a bit erratic. Psykers could be a bit unpredictable to begin with and apparently Rakel took that to another level. I thought that perhaps it was a good idea that we kept the head-cases out of things for the time being. "We'll start things off lightly first with some questioning. We'll break out the thumb screws if he gets uncooperative."

"Man looks terrified already," I commented as I peered through the observation window. He was a stout, portly fellow with a receding hairline and eyes that were darting around room. Judging by his pale complexion and his bionically-enhanced that were fidgeting constantly, he used to be part of the Administratum or did similar work. "If he snaps, we might lose any chance of getting good intel out of him without a psyker."

Suddenly, Vail gave me the most unsettling smile I had ever seen. On the surface it appeared no different than any other friendly gesture but when one sees an Inquisitor like Vail bearing such a look you cannot help but wonder what plots were forming behind her eyes. "You know what? I am dreadfully tired from all that running about. I think I shall take a short nap," she said, stretching her arms with an exaggerated yawn. "Commissars Cain and Abel, please see to the interrogation in the meantime. I expect results when I return."

Miss Vail had a knack for throwing the unexpected onto people's laps, which was probably an asset within the Inquisition. It kept people on their toes when around her. I expected Hakim to raise a holy fury over her decision but he said nothing at first. After a few moments of letting his anger simmer visibly beneath the surface, he rushed off in pursuit of Inquisitor Vail, grumbling bitterly under his breath in the process.

"What just happened?" I asked bemused.

"Inquisitor Vail must believe that we will be able to extract information more effectively than her," Cain answered with a hint of surprise at this turn of events.

"She thinks we'll be more effective than the Inquisition?" I remarked. I had trouble understanding that logic given that few things in the Imperium could scare the pants off of me as effectively as the Inquisition.

"Well correct me if I'm wrong but nobody has actually identified themselves as Inquisitors around the prisoner," Cain explained. "If he thinks cooperation will keep him out of their hands, he may be more forthcoming. Plus, the Commissariat is a more widely recognized arm of the Emperor's authority."

"Least of all you," I added jokingly. "So how shall we approach this?"

Cain smiled mischievously as he motioned me to follow. "I think it's time for a little 'good commissar, bad commissar' don't you think? You go in first and butter him up a little bit."

Every commissar cadet from their first day of tutoring would know what game Cain was referring to. The simple tactic was as effective as it was enjoyable. The only problem that usually arose from it was fighting over who got to play the bad commissar. I would have liked to have been the bad commissar but everyone always said my diminutive stature made it difficult for me to be considered intimidating. But I believe that the scores of people I've interrogated throughout my career would whole-heartedly disagree with that assumption. Granted after a prolonged interrogation I could get people to sign off on almost anything I suggest to them but that's beside the point.

I took a few more minutes to study the fidgeting prisoner before grabbing a random dataslate and heading into the interrogation room. As Cain had hoped for, the man's tension seemed to ease slightly when I stepped into the room. He was still nervous as a man with a daemon breathing down his neck but I was only just beginning. "Boy, what a day, huh?" I remarked casually as I took across the table from him. "I mean, those damn Eldar can just pop up when you least expect it. It's a good thing me and my boys came along when we did."

"Uh...y-yes. It was," he answered meekly. He was definitely nervous but he was also avoiding making any eye contact, instead keeping his gaze fixed on a tiny divot on the table between his hands. Whatever he did in life, he wasn't accustomed to be addressed directly.

"Mind if I take my hat off? There's no need to keep things formal if you're just a civilian." The man only shook his head but I did catch him casting a brief glance up as I set my hat aside. Just to add to the air of informality I let my hair down and undid the top buttons of my coat. Hopefully the man would be more relaxed if he got the impression I wasn't a hardline commissar but that counted on him knowing much about the Commissariat. "Now I am Commissar Ariel Abel of the Valhallan 597th Ice Warriors," I introduced myself as I pretended to work on my dataslate, opening up a file detailing the mess hall's weekly menu. "Now we already know who you are but for the record could you just state your name. And clearly please."

"V-Vespasian Flavius, ma'am," he answered meekly.

"And your profession Mr. Flavius?"

"I am a financial asset logistician."

"So...an accountant basically?" I remarked to which he nodded somberly. "You must be quite the talented individual managing all of Mr. Sinstre's assets. The man has a small fortune after all. And you say you look after all that money on your own?" Again, a silent nod but I could see a hint of pride swell in his eyes. He clearly wasn't accustomed to interrogations or he wouldn't be volunteering information quite so readily. He assumed that I had all these details already rather than just making some educated guesses. "Now I'm going to be honest with you Mr. Flavius...you are in a bit of a precarious situation right now. Things do not look good for you."

"I...I am? What? How?" he repeated in complete shock.

"Well, it's the man you work for. It seems the His Majesty's Inquisition is very keen on talking to him but they aren't having much luck finding him. And as you may have noticed, the Eldar are trying to do the same."

"The...the Inquisition?" As to be expected, the mention of the Inquisition threw him into a panic. "I haven't done anything wrong."

"Well hopefully we will be able to convince the Inquisitors of that," I said. "Listen, I want to help you. I really do. But your boss has gotten himself caught up in some nasty business and anyone associated with him is being tainted with the presumption of guilt. Unfortunately, he doesn't care who gets dragged down with him but that is what's likely to happen. But you're just an accountant. It's not like he tells you much other than asking if he's got enough money to buy a new yacht, right? You'll need to distance yourself from your boss as much as you can and give us something we can use to keep the Inquisitors happy. If you do then-" The interruption came so suddenly even I was caught by surprise when the door slammed opened and Commissar Cain strolled in. I bolted up from my seat, snapping a quick salute and putting on my best 'intimidated underling' expression. "C-Commissar Cain...I was told you wouldn't be-"

"I go where the Emperor guides me Commissar!" Cain snapped. "Now put your damn hat back on before you disgrace the entire Commissariat." I hastily heeded the instructions while Cain took my seat, hitting Flavius with an intimidating glare that would make even hardened veterans squirm in their boots. "Vespasian Flavius you stand accused of heresy against His Majesty, the Immortal God-Emperor. You have aided a known enemy of the Imperium in subverting an entire planet in service to the Ruinous Powers. Do you have anything to say in your defence heretic?"

"H-heresy? This has to be some kind of a mistake!" Whatever comfort I might have given him earlier was knocked aside by Cain, keeping our prisoner off-balance (not that it appeared he had any to begin with).

"Mistake? We found you hiding amongst heretics in a facility that is a known heretical hideout! Now the Eldar wanted you pretty badly so it's obvious you're high up enough in Sinstre's little cult to make the xenos pissed with you."

"I'm just a financial asset logistician! I look after money!"

"I don't care if all you do is wipe Mr. Sinstre's arse! You are aiding in his insurrection and that makes you as guilty as he is," Cain shouted, slamming a fist into the table to rattle Flavius further. "The only reason I haven't shot you like the miserable sack of shit you are is because you have an opportunity to be a useful sack of shit!"

"I don't know anything about...about an insurrection!" Flavius pleaded. "I move money around, monitor assets...that's it. Mr. Sinstre just tells me to put money into a location or account and I do that."

Suddenly, Cain reached across the table and grabbed the man by the scruff of his shirt and pulled him half-way across the tabletop. "Spare me your pleas of innocence heretic! All they are doing is wasting my time and I am the last man on this miserable Emperor-forsaken planet you want to piss off! Do you know who I am? I am Commissar Ciaphas Cain! The Liberator of Perlia, the scourge of heretics, and right now I am the one thing standing between you and an eternity of suffering at the hands of the Inquisition! The only reason I haven't thrown you to them already is because my associate here is certain we can get more use out of you this way."

Though I wasn't sure how terrified Cain wanted the prisoner, I saw an opening to continue building my half of the performance. "We're not going to get information from him if you scare him into cardiac arrest," I insisted as I stepped in and tried to pry Cain off of the prisoner. Cain was, however, strong enough to easily brush me aside but he reluctantly released the prisoner anyways.

"We want names and locations Flavius! Give us Sinstre or somebody who can do it better than you!" Cain continued, not as loud as earlier but still just as forceful. Flavius tried to get an answer out but his words came out as a jumble, prompting Cain to shout at him more. After about cursing up a storm for about a minute without even so much as taking a breath, a sudden knocking on the window drew his attention. "Oh good, hopefully that'll be the Inquisitors," he said with a hint of relief. "I can just hand you over to them and then I can actually do some real work for the Emperor." With one more glare of contempt, Cain rose from his seat and marched out of the room.

No sooner did Cain step out did Flavius collapse onto the table, burying his face into his palms and muttering every prayer he knew under his breath. I had to work quickly before he fell completely into despair. "Like I said Flavius, you are in a spot of trouble thanks to your boss. Now do you think Sinstre gives a damn what happens to you? We hand you over to the Inquisition and he'll just find himself a new number-jockey. You don't owe that man your life and soul."

"But...but what can I do?" he whimpered.

"Work with me here," I said reassuringly. "The Inquisition just wants Sinstre...they don't waste their time on the little guys like you. Help us find Sinstre and the Inquisition will be so busy they'll forget you even exist."

"They...they will?"

"Who do you think they are going to be more interested in? A Chaos-worshipping heretic who's trying to overthrow a planet or the guy who handles his taxes?"

"Well...o-okay," Flavius said reluctantly. And just like that the nut cracked open. Most people would think that an accountant wouldn't be of much danger but when it came to tracking down heretics, following the money was always a sure-fire solution, especially rich heretics. After enduring twenty minutes of the most anti-climactic ending to an interrogation, I left the interrogation room and met a very pleased-looking Commissar Cain by the observation window.

"Excellent work Commissar Abel," he congratulated. "So what did the little miscreant have to say?"

"Mr. Sinstre apparently knew a great deal about the impending war as he moved a lot of his assets off-world just before it broke out," I began, although what I said was stuff we were already aware of. "However, even before all that, he dumped a significant amount of money into the renovations of a large piece of property in the Nysa district. Money which Flavius apparently spent a great deal of time concealing from everyone from the Administratum to Sinstre's ex-wife. According to Flavius, the property and all the renovations leave a paper trail leading to a man that exists only on paper, hence why the Arbites had no knowledge of it. Now Flavius doesn't know for certain if Sinstre is there but the Nysa district was only lightly damaged in the war and he apparently sunk enough money into the property to turn it into a fortress." And everybody knows that greedy, rich bastards don't walk from things they invest that amount of cash into. It seemed as good a place to hide as anywhere.

* * *

When Inquisitor Vail said she was going to take a nap, I had assumed it was just an excuse to leave and give Commissar Cain the room he needed to work. As it turned out, she was actually taking a nap so Cain and I were forced to wait a few hours before we could deliver a final report on the success of our interrogation. Since we had the time, we decided to do a bit of extra digging into this property in the Nysa district. Once again, the Adeptus Arbites proved to be the model of efficiency on a planet otherwise full of monosyllabic, knuckle-draggers. In less than an hour after Cain contacted them, we had all the information they had on the property in question. Unfortunately, the reason it didn't take much time likely had to do with the fact that there was little information available other than the old schematics of the original structure when it was last rebuilt roughly a thousand years ago. Suffice to say it was about as accurate as a topographic map of an artillery range and equally depressing. What we could take from the map, however, was how big the overall facility was and a general impression of how defendable it was. The answers to both of those questions were 'extremely.'

The Inquisitors weren't too thrilled to see the schematics either. Any elation provided by our report of the interrogation, of which Cain received all the credit for those of you who are curious, was immediately dampened when I pulled out the schematics. Rather than having our report in the usual briefing room, we sat around a breakfast table in Miss Vail's chamber, which happened to be a penthouse suite belonging to a former nobleman. I felt decadent just sitting on the padded chair and strangely out of place despite everyone else being dressed in a similar fashion. With the exception of Miss Vail, we huddled around a paper map that was sprawled across the table. Vail, having looked as though she had just finished her nap, sat on the furthest couch.

"I've seen palaces of lesser magnitude," Hakim remarked after taking a quick look over the map. "Finding this Sinstre character will be challenging...assuming your information is accurate."

"It is and it will be," Cain insisted as he took the Inquisitors on a tour of the property. "And it's safe to assume that Sinstre will be on the look-out for you two. These spires on the perimeter are probably serving as watch towers and since there's no sunlight to let in, I doubt he's removed the perimeter walls or installed any large windows we could use to breach the building. This garage in the east courtyard could house any number of vehicles, military or otherwise, and there's enough interior space to garrison at least two companies of militia. Underground, things just get more complicated as the buildings several stories down and spreads across at least twice as much area as the surface structures...assuming he hasn't had engineers build new tunnels connecting it to the adjacent undercity network. A direct assault would be ill-advised."

"Tough it may be, it is will only a civilian structure defended by heretical rabble. They would not be able to withstand a massed assault," Hakim insisted. There were no prizes in guessing how he wanted to handle the situation and his unoriginality was poorly received by the rest of us. For an Inquisitor I was disappointed in his...limited ingenuity. I suppose the old adage 'when the only tool you've got is a thunderhammer...' is particularly true for him. At any point I was expecting Inquisitor Vail to intercede and point out the critical flaws in Hakim but she seemed too preoccupied by the dataslate she had been reading since we started our report. Normally, I would have been bothered by such apparent inattentiveness but Vail was smart enough to handle both tasks at once. She only looked up briefly whenever Cain spoke, which she correctly assumed were the only parts of the conversation worth listening to.

"If this were simply a mission to lay waste to this building and every heretical soul within then I would already be out there with the 597th knocking the front door down," Cain replied as though his loyalty and devotion had just been insulted. "But we cannot be certain that a direct assault will cripple the heretic's plans. Sinstre could be another middleman for all we know, which means we have to take him alive."

"Then we surround the facility both above and below and storm the facility - give him no place to run," was Hakim's next brilliant suggestion. Were I less disciplined I might have had trouble resisting the urge to laugh. He should've tried suggesting battle plans more often - it would've been great for officer morale.

"The 597th is stretched thin enough as it is, the manpower needed to cordon would compromise all of our other objectives, including defending our headquarters. And that's even assuming we are able to find and secure every underground passage," Cain explained, talking notably slower as to avoid any confusion on the larger words. "This man is aware of the Inquisitions presence and will be on the look-out for any potential threats. A direct assault of any kind will drive Sinstre even further underground and we'll lose our only lead. We are, for the first time, one step ahead of this man who thinks he's one step ahead of us. We're only going to have one shot at this so we need to make it count."

"If you've got a better suggestion I'm willing to hear it," Hakim challenged having been talked back to by Cain one too many times. I don't think Cain had an actual suggestion but he knew full-well who would.

Cain simply directed Hakim's attention over to Vail, who immediately chimed, "I'll go undercover, infiltrate his organization, and get the necessary intel." Her tone was so matter-of-factly that I would not have been surprised if this plan had been devised the moment we said 'we found him.' "Once we know the full extent of his plans and how he fits into it then we can decide whether we still need him alive." Needless to say, I liked the sound of Vail's plan a lot more than Hakim's. For starters it didn't involve me being in the line of fire for a change, which was always a plus in my opinion.

Unfortunately, then came Hakim's turn to point out critical flaws in people's plans. "Except that because of the security breech, Sinstre would recognize you or myself if we attempted to infiltrate his organization."

"Hm...you have a point there," Vail admitted though with far less reluctance than I had expected. In fact, it almost sounded as if she saw that coming as well. That thought left me with a terrible sense of dread. "Very well, then Commissar Cain will take my place."

"With all due respect Inquisitor Vail, this is a delicate undercover operation at a crucial point in our campaign. I must question the wisdom of tasking a single Commissar with no undercover training," Cain spoke, voicing doubt that I had not expected. I would have expected Cain to be all in favour of taking charge in such an important operation but I realized that even a Hero of the Imperium had limits. This would be far from the 'leading the charge' style of operation he was famous for.

His words, however, failed to change the Inquisitor's mind. In fact, she seemed to take a slight hint of amusement from it for some bizarre reason. "Nonsense Commissar, I think a commissar is sufficiently experienced in making people believe in things that aren't true," she mused. As much as I would have liked to disagree, she did have a point with that. How often do commissars tell their troops that the Emperor protected the faithful just before sending the company charging headlong into an artillery barrage? "But you are right about one thing – it would be foolish to send you in alone." Then Vail stared at me for a moment with a look that sent every 'fight or flight' instinct I had into overdrive. "Commissar Abel…you're Cain's wife now. You'll accompany him on the mission."

Since shouting 'hell no' was obviously not an appropriate response, I simply nodded in agreement. Who knew marriage could be so simple? Of course, had I known what I was getting into they would have needed a shotgun wedding to get to go along with their plan.


	12. TWELVE

**TWELVE**

Ariel Abel; a child of Krieg, daughter of an Imperial Commissar, and unofficial pupil of the one of the greatest men to ever serve the Commissariat. Once when I was a child, I got into a fight with a girl almost twice my size over a doll. When my father asked me what happened, I said I got attacked by a pack of thugs. I was too scared to admit that I had lost a fight, even if I was the obvious underdog. When I was twelve, I became a commissar cadet despite the insistence of tutors that I should follow the other 'little' girls into the Adepta Sorotitas. I told my detractors that my honour and dedication would not accept any other placement. The truth was, though, I didn't believe that I fitted in with the Sororitas initiates and I was convinced that they would never accept me. Even though my best friend was an initiate, I feared my faith would never be strong enough to satisfy the Ecclesiarchy. When I was fourteen, I was told by my tutors that my physical aptitude scores were so bad that they would have little choice but to fail me and transfer me to a different program, most likely the Adepta Sororitas. I bought myself breathing space by making up a story about how I had to join the Commissariat in order to avenge the death of my uncle, a fellow commissar who had been left to die by the cowardly general he had been working alongside. I think my tutor was so impressed by my gall and stubbornness that he gave me a second chance. That night I managed to convince my roommate and best friend, Verity, that it was her 'holy quest' to get my combat skills up high enough to pass. We would train long into the night practicing hand-to-hand combat and target shooting, often breaking into the training facilities or stealing dinner plates for targets. She drove me like a rented mule, hitting me with a shock maul whenever I missed a target. In retrospect, all the late-night stalking and early-morning aches were probably how the rumour about us being lesbian lovers got started. Within a year, I was the top of my class in marksmanship and fifth in hand-to-hand combat. It pulled my grade from the abyss and made me a model student once more. My tutors praised me for my grit and determination even though it was equal parts determination and intimidation. My refusal to give in and Verity's refusal to let me fail. Then, a twenty-three-year-old commissar with almost no little combat experience confronted a daemon while travelling in the warp. Through a combination of tenacity and dumb luck, not only did she survive but saved the life of a governor's daughter and possibly the entire ship. They called me a hero but I was perfectly prepared to throw every single soul on that ship into the daemon's path in my attempt to save my life. They praised me, gave me a pat on the back, and then shipped me off to aid the empire. All I wanted to do was lie down and sleep for a couple of weeks.

And if at any point during those formative years anyone had somebody told me that I would one day be strolling into the heart of a cult of Chaos worshippers like I was walking to a Sunday School picnic, all at the behest of His Majesty's Inquisition, I would have had beaten them to within an inch of their miserable, ignorant lives for spouting drug induced lies about my intelligence and judgment. I had zero experience in espionage and as far as I was aware, neither did Cain. I felt as qualified for an undercover operation as an Ork for a ballet recital. So while accompanying an Inquisitor on a mission could be classified as Level One in the Stupidity Scale, having no training, experience or natural skills in subterfuge while being entrusted to employ those talents in order to successfully complete a vital stage of the operation was Level Ten Stupid. Exponential Level 10. Using the Logarithmic Scale.

Despite Hakim's repeated objections, Vail made it clear that her decision had been made. She had an odd smirk on her lips when she said that Cain had plenty of experience making people into believing falsehoods. I tried to voice my concerns, phrased so delicately that they would've shattered from a stiff breeze, but she dismissed those concerns and told me that she would take care of me. Not surprisingly, that only added to my worries rather than detract them. Vail then instructed Cain and I to return in a few hours so she could make the necessary preparations. For some odd reason I felt like the grox waiting for the butcher to finish sharpening his knife. Cain suggested I get something to eat but my appetite had gone AWOL. Instead, I sat in my quarters with a glass of amasec, trying to think of the right way to tell Inquisitor Vail that picking me was a horrible idea without making it obvious that I was petrified of failing. Failing her, failing Cain, failing myself. I had been given difficult assignments before but in most cases they were military objectives - take and hold a position, eliminate an enemy hold-out, escort a convoy, or repel invaders. I was always willing to be the hammer or the anvil in any operation. Undercover work required subtleness, charisma and creativity. Without the scarlet sash and hat, I felt as powerless as an unarmed Tau.

Perhaps it was unnerving to have an accomplished Inquisitor, one that held Cain's respect no less, expressed such a degree of confidence in me. And I have always felt that I held a reputation that was unworthy of possessing. The thought of disappointing a tutor or even a senior Commissar was stressful enough but worrying over an Inquisitor was going to burn a hole through my gut. For a moment I wondered if Cain was as nervous as me but when I thought about what Vail said. She seemed to imply that he had plenty of experience in the field. Perhaps he had done some undercover work during one of his previous joint ventures with the Inquisition. I made a mental note to seek his advice at my earliest convenience, which would have been immediately had somebody not knocked on my door.

Given my current state of mind I wasn't certain if entertaining guests of any kind was a good idea. The Emperor himself could land on my doorstep and I would probably still be too distracted to care. I had hoped if I remained silent they would go away. No such luck on that prospect however. "Commissar, open the damn door already. I know you're in there," echoed Vail's unsettlingly familiar voice. Begrudgingly I pulled myself away from my glass and opened the door for the Inquisitor, who wasted no time in inviting herself inside. "We've got a lot to do if we're going to get you ready," she announced as she walked past me, dragging behind her a pair of large suitcases.

"I think we should make that our new team motto," I remarked with complete disregard for tact. "Surely you've got somebody better qualified for this on your staff."

"I usually handle my own undercover work and the only other women in my retinue are either too strung-out or too green to handle this," Vail said. She sounded a bit annoyed that he had to explain herself or perhaps she was as uncomfortable with the idea as I was. "Listen, I appreciate modesty as much as the next person but I don't have time to nurse your confidence back to health. I picked you because you're the only person that Cain trusts and he's going to need somebody to watch his back."

"But what about N'hila? She's tailor-made for this kind of work."

"Tempting...but her gifts are best utilized assuming pre-existing identities rather than confining her to an entirely fictitious one. If necessary, we can have her assume Sinstre's identity but not until we know what he knows," Vail explained in a rather hurried fashion as she tossed her suitcases onto my bed and started unpacking. "Now if you're done with playing twenty questions we get back to saving this Emperor-forsaken hellhole"

"At least if things go wrong I'll be too dead to say 'I told you so,'" I said jokingly. The Inquisitor didn't appear to appreciate my humour. "So...what's with the luggage?"

"If our plan is going to work, we need to make you into a woman," Vail explained as she started laying out various dresses, blouses, and skirts across my bed.

"Oh Okay. No, wait. I already am one," I remarked with a touch of indignation.

"Could have fooled me," Vail quipped sarcastically, flashing me a quick smirk to let me know that she was just messing with me. "If there's one important thing to know about rich scumbags, it's that they'll follow their penis off a cliff."

"How quaint," I commented as I took a moment to examine the things that Vail had taken from her suitcase. Damn near everything seemed to be a bit, well revealing would be an understatement. I wasn't sure how my pasty-white, scrawny butt was going to attract the eye of some rich bastard who could order call girls like a junior officer orders artillery strikes (in large numbers and at the slightest bump) but I didn't have the luxury of doubt. Vail had me trying on various dresses and outfits for almost an hour while she tried to figure out how to best 'accentuate my assets,' which was as daunting of a challenge as fighting a tyranid with a wooden ladle. I hadn't worn anything resembling a dress in almost a decade and the absence of a weapon's belt and armour left me feeling unbalanced and exposed. Thankfully, I was able to at least talk my way out of high heels since no right-minded person would wear those given the planet's current condition. To put it politely, my figure was non-existent and dressing me up was akin to throwing on a lampshade and calling it a day. Vail decided that my best bet would be to go for the overly prim, proper, puritan look - I could dress a bit more comfortably plus it would hopefully make me a tempting target to an overly lecherous heretic fool. If Vail could have made me into a convincing 'sheltered schoolgirl,' she probably would have. The frilly white dress that Vail eventually decided upon was at least tasteful and none too revealing. The layered skirt was a touch oversized but I liked the idea of how many laspistols I could hide under it.

"So how does it feel?" Vail asked as she laced up the back of the dress for me.

"It's a bit tight and stiff. It feels unsettling...yet strangely liberating," I remarked while I inspected myself in a nearby mirror. The stiffness apparently was due to the dress having a bit of protection woven into the fabric. The dress was lined with a thermoplast weave, which according to Vail would take most of the heat from lasgun shot. I also noticed there were a few hidden pocket stitched into the interior of the dress. Like Vail, the dress was more combat-ready than its appearances suggested. Still, I had trouble wrapping my head around the idea of not wearing any pants, especially in a fight, and despite there being a thick curtain around my hips I could not shake that feeling that I was naked. And also that my legs were in terrible need of a shave. Now don't get me wrong, I was far from some kind of unkempt, cave-dwelling savage but the battlefield was rarely a suitable location for taking care of such grooming issues. Plus it wasn't as though I was attempting to impress anyone or would need to. For the men in the Imperial Guard, if you could get the pants off of a woman you didn't care about what state her legs were in so long as they were still attached. And speaking of hair issues, once my dress had been selected Vail took me aside to have me properly groomed. I'll skip the details but by the end of it I don't think there was a hair on me from the neck down and I felt as though I had just been worked over with a power sander. Whoever thought up of the concept of waxing needed to be loaded into a torpedo tube and launched into the nearest star.

Then came the hair styling and make-up, two more concepts that were as foreign to me as Gellar's warp theorem. Again, the battlefield wasn't the time or place for such things unless you count tucking your hair into a bun or applying a stick of camo paint. It was a good thing that Watz wasn't present to witness any of this; I would have never heard the end of it. I wasn't certain how foundation, blush, or eyeliner was going to help in the mission but Vail insisted, stating that it was the little details that spelled the difference between amateurs and professionals when it came to espionage. I still thought it would take a lot more than little details to elevate me above the status of rank amateur. The learning process was going poorly at the start - I managed to jab myself twice in the eye when trying to touch up my eyelashes and my first attempt with blush left me looking as though I was suffering from a commutable skin disease.

"I think I need some help here..." I groaned..

"No, Lord General Kuster needed 'help,' you need Divine Intervention," Vail replied with restrained disappointment. She told me to wash my face and we'd go over the instructions again. It was painfully awkward being a grown woman being taught things which I imagined were a rite of passage for most young girls in the Imperium. Obviously I missed out on such important life lessons since the closest mother figure I had during my childhood was Terri the mess cook and the administration would have frowned upon him teaching me such skills. Now despite the horrible awkwardness of make-up 101, fixing my hair was an even more painful affair, literally in this case. Combing through my hair was like combing through a minefield since gasmasks and peaked caps tend to be hostile environments for those yearning for a luscious head of hair. My hair had enough knots to double as a velcro strap and brushing them all out was a torturous affair. I suspect it was no coincidence that she chose that moment to grill me about a few issues that I imagine had been brewing in the back of her mind.

"I take that you have no issues or concerns with taking the role of Commissar Cain's wife?" Vail said as she picked up the hairbrush and got to work.

If I had any intent on trying to embellish or conceal the truth, I was far too preoccupied trying to keep my hair from becoming uprooted by Vail's vigorous combing. "I don't see why I need to be his-ow! Do you really need to pull so hard?" Vail shrugged off my remarks and continued unabated. I figured if I answered her quickly she might ease up a bit. "I don't see why I need to be his wife. Is that really necessary?"

"Well you need to be someone with great significance to him in order to make the cover story work," she explained plainly. "Wife is the most logical option and hopefully it'll add to the temptation and compel Sinstre to keep working alongside Cain. You will be the bait and hook that will keep Sinstre where we need him. You don't need to pretend to be a good wife...in fact it'll work to our advantage if you feign dissatisfaction with Cain when you get the opportunity."

"Ah, the unhappy, ow, hausfrau," I murmured in agreement.

"You'll still need to be convincing. I hope that you and Cain have a good working relationship," Vail continued, the brush strokes becoming notably firmer at the same time. "I imagine the two of you have had to work quite closely in the past."

"It is as professional as it is harmonious," I replied. "We work well together because we share similar philosophies and goals. Is there something about us that trouble you Inquisitor?" The saying goes that the best defence is a good offence so I figured a bit of counter-questioning might be prudent. It would hopefully take some of the heat off of me or I would learn firsthand how to kill somebody with a hairbrush.

"I need to make sure that this operation goes without a hitch," Vail said in an expert deflection. "I can coach you and Cain beforehand but once you two on in the field you'll only have each other to rely upon. Failure will mean the death of both of you and I do not intend to lose a valuable asset of the Imperium." I assumed the 'asset' meant Cain since a Hero of the Imperium wasn't something you could just requisition from the Munitorium. I, however, pegged myself as being part of the 'acceptable losses' category. "Your hair is an absolute mess Abel. Haven't you ever heard of shampoo?"

"The last time I had a bottle of shampoo somebody used it to degrease engine components."

"I saw a bottle in your bathroom."

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to maintain authority when your head smells like a bouquet of calliums? It came with the room, that's all."

As to be expected, Vail told me to make use of it at my earliest convenience. I still disliked the idea of having my head smelling someone's garden but I reminded myself that my new mission required me to become someone starkly different from my usual self. I made a mental note that if at any point in the mission I became confused as to what I should do, I was to think of what I would normally do in that situation and then do the exact opposite. How hard could that be?

After some more hair tugging and a few more pointers about how to be 'lady-like,' Vail told me to shower up and get properly dressed. A mission briefing was going to be held in the conference room in about an hour and, for a change, it was important that I attended. Apparently the former occupant of my room had a number of soaps and washes and beauty products that she must have left behind in her haste to get away from the warzone. Many of the items in question were things I had never even heard of, let alone fathom how people thought up of them. One of the body washes had in big, bright letters 'made with the essence of gaocomolle,' which I suspect was the weird, gangly purple fruit that was displayed on the bottle. It was moments like those that made me thankful that I was in the commissariat and not a civilian. True, there was the constant threat of being disintegrated or digested but I couldn't imagine how dull life could be if your selection of fruit essence was an important decision in your day. It was bizarre, almost alien, how they could be of the same species and yet their world seemed so inconceivably foreign to me. And now I was required to pretend to be one of these flat-faced, slack-jawed, inbred, vapid humanoids. It gave me something to think about as I lathered, rinsed, and repeated. Normally I spent more time cleaning my laspistols than my hair so I found myself forcing myself to keep grooming. I didn't even put in that degree of effort when I prepared for parade inspections and again I was left wondering how normal people could put so much effort into something so fleeting.

I emerged from the shower smelling like a combination of a fruit salad and a flower bush. Perhaps if my olfactory nerves hadn't so confused by my new fragrance I wouldn't have missed the distinct aroma of fresh tea in the air. I did not, however, miss the Eldar sitting on my couch.

"Morning Ariel, I must say I love what you've done with your hair."

"Kael!"

"Your pistols are over there if you want to make a run for it," he said, gesturing to my belt with the tea cup he held.

"Should I even bother at this point?" I sighed in defeat. I was certain that even if I did manage to make it to my pistols without being knocked out he probably had the power cells removed or the triggers sabotage or he'd simply be gone. He was taunting me because he knew there was nothing I could do wearing only a pink bath robe. I noticed that Kael happened to have a second cup of tea sitting on the table in front of him so at least he was nice enough to pour me a cup in the meantime. "What are you doing here anyways?" I asked as I took a seat on the couch and picked up the tea.

"I figured if you were going on a dangerous undercover operation I would give what help I could given that I do have some experience in the field," he answered with a friendly smirk.

"How in the warp do you already know about that?" I exclaimed, almost spilling my tea in the process.

"Simple, I bugged your hat when I delivered the flower," he said nonchalantly.

"You son of a bitch! You've been spying on me?"

"It was the only way to ensure your safety." Unfortunately, I wasn't sure which fact annoyed me further - the fact that I had been used unwittingly as his informant (an act that I would execute a soldier over) or the fact that I probably would've been killed had it not been for the bug and his intervention. I was half-tempted to throw my tea at him but all I would have accomplished was leaving a brownish stain on my couch that I would have trouble explaining to people later. Obviously, I refrained from telling anybody about Kael's little spy device. Cain and Kasteen might have been forgiving but I knew with almost certainty that Vail or Hakim would not extend the same leniency. No point in volunteering for the firing squad, especially when there was still a mission to accomplish. "Now would you like your gifts or are you just going to keep waving your tea at my in anger?"

I simply let out a defeated sigh and sank into the couch. There was no way I was going to talk my way out of this so I figured I might as well hear him out. "Fine...what is it?" I asked despairingly.

"Well I must say you can certainly pull off the rich socialite look but you are lacking one of the things I've seen on every rich tourist that I had in my shop back on Magnus Viridis," Kael explained as he set his tea down and reached into the depths of his cloak. "And that is shiny metal things adorned with big, honking stones," he said as he set a jewelled necklace and bracelet on the table. "Frankly I don't quite see the appeal but apparently women go nuts for these things."

"Is there a point to these?" I asked as I picked up the necklace. It consisted of a tear-shaped blue gem about the size of my thumb suspended on a gold chain. Obviously I knew little of jewelry other than the correlation between its cost and how shiny it was. And this little rock was very, very shiny. I did not, however, think that Kael had picked these up at any ordinary jeweller. "I assume it's more than, just because they go well with your eyes."

Kael merely chuckled as he directed my attention to the stone on the end of the gold chain. "As you might recall me mentioning earlier, my ability to delve into the sea of fates is being mired by a potent psyker. I don't know the full extent of his abilities but if he's a potent telepath as well then your mission could be jeopardized. That stone projects an aura of...well, let's call it the psychic equivalent of white noise. It'll keep your thoughts from drifting away without making it obvious that you're interfering with his abilities. Most experienced agents can learn how to keep their thoughts disseminated but you obviously don't have the time to learn that skill. It doesn't offer complete protection because that would tip-off a skilled psyker."

"But it will keep a psyker from looking at me and realizing that I'm lying to his face?" I asked for clarification. "Shouldn't Commissar Cain get one as well?"

"Cain has that...skill. He's capable of keeping a psyker from catching his surface thoughts so don't worry. Plus do you really think Miss Vail would permit my assistance?" Kael did have a valid point there. Cain might give the Eldar the benefit of the doubt if I made a strong case for them but with the Inquisition present then I'd have to keep Kael's assistance a little secret. Cain's sense of duty would demand that he inform the Inquisition of Kael's offer and I couldn't put my fellow commissar into such a compromising position. "Also, the pendant will warm slightly when you're in the presence of psychic energy which you can feel for yourself."

Though I did not doubt his words, Kael placed the pendant into the palm of my end just to demonstrate. True to his word, the stone was reacting to his psychic energies and possessed a subtle warmth to it, like a warm flush after a glass of amasec. "And the bracelet?"

"Think of it as a lighthouse in the psychic fog," Kael explained even though it served poorly as one. "You and Cain will walking alone into the heart of madness itself. It will help me watch over you." He paused monetarily when I shot him a skeptical glare and quickly picked up on what was bothering me. "I realize that it's a bit...inappropriate given that I've just admitted to spying on you and your colleagues but...well, I will do whatever it takes to uphold my duty to prophecy and my people. Surely you can understand the importance of duty." Once again the master manipulator knew exactly which buttons to push with me as I found myself nodding silently almost immediately. Considering how well Kael was able to run rings around both the Imperial Guard and the Tau back on Magnus Viridis, there was a slight degree of comfort in knowing that the same brilliant mind would be helping me out. Talent, however, was never an issue with the Eldar in my opinion for what they lack in numbers they compensated with technology and warpcraft. The issue with any Eldar is that you can depend on them like you can depend on your intelligence officer - at least going in alone you won't wind up disappointed.

"I guess I can use whatever help I can get at this point," I said reluctantly. Many would argue that it was very naive of me to accept help from a xeno based solely on that reason but my instincts with Kael rarely steered me wrong. If anything, the only thing I underestimated was the magnitude of what Kael's protection entailed. What I had seen of Kael's abilities was limited and though what Vail described was impressive, it was hard to fathom that kind of power purely by word of mouth. What one of the most lasting lessons I learned on Erebus was that beneath the calm, controlled exterior of the Eldar seer masked by a whimsical, almost jester-like attitude, was an ocean of distilled rage. And with a whim, he could drown all of Erebus with it. Yet every time I saw the man I was still intent on trying to put a laser bolt between his eyes. I would have been safer using an unexploded earthshaker round as a dinner bell.

"I suppose I should take my leave so you can return your mission," Kael suddenly announced before finishing off the last of his tea. With any other person I would have been puzzled by the sudden departure but with Kael it was to be expected. Most likely his narrow window of safe passage through our territory was closing or he had some other absurd prophecy to chase after. I neither knew nor care since he wouldn't have given me a straight had I asked.

"Any last second advice for a novice who can barely pass off as a credible commissar?"

"A change in career perhaps? Have you considered hotel doorman, you've already got the coat and hat."

"I meant for the mission you pointy-eared twit!"

"Oh right," he replied jokingly. He paused in mock contemplation, likely just drawing out what would have otherwise been a quick response. Clearly he was simply trying my patience in his usual, irritating fashion. "Despite it being the 'enlightened' forty-first millennium, a rich merchant is still little more than an egotistical misogynist who indulges in childish whims. Universally they always assume the same two things about women: that they are helpless and that they will be attracted to him."

"So I have to seduce the bastard? I'm not sure I'll be able to keep my lunch down," I groaned at the mere thought of what I might have to do. Asking me to die for the Emperor was one thing...but seducing a heretic? I would rather be violated by a lictor.

"Play innocent," he answered as he headed for the door. "And suffice to say Miss Abel, please do be careful. Psykers are always a wild card."

Politeness dictates that I should have said 'thanks' to some extent but even if I had Kael did not stick around to listen for it. He departed as quickly as he came, leaving me with my thoughts and some jewelry of questionable value and sanctity. I would have little time to dwell on either matters, however, as a few minutes later I received a call from Commissar Cain to report to the briefing room.

* * *

As with most meetings involving the Inquisition, there were only a handful of us present - the two Inquisitors, one stern and grim-faced as always and the other enjoying what appeared to be some freshly made pastries; N'hila, who I was slightly relieved to see back in active service; my new 'husband,' freshly shaved and sporting a very expensive silk-lined trenchcoat; and myself, feeling quite out of place wearing a dress in the middle of a military installation.

"I must say Commissar Abel I almost did not recognize you for a moment," Cain said, being the first to notice my arrival. I'm certain that he was simply trying to be polite since process of elimination alone made it obvious who I was. "That's an interesting pendant you have by the way. I wasn't aware you could afford something like that on a commissar's salary." I knew any hope of nobody noticing the new jewelry I wore would be short-lived, especially as the blue stone stood out against the white fabric.

"Watz found it in one of the empty rooms in my building," I lied. The building I was using was once an Administratum hab-spire so there it was entirely possible somebody who once lived there had expensive jewelry. Part of me suspected Cain didn't quite believe me but he didn't press the issue further. If he did suspect Kael, he wasn't going to out me in front of the Inquisitors or he'd have to start doing his paperwork again. "Now I know Commissar Cain and I are newly-weds but I imagine there's more to our brilliant plan than that. Mr. Sinstre lives in a fortress, not a hotel."

"The plan is fairly straight-forward," Vail began, wiping a few pastry flakes from her lips with a napkin. "Sinstre is too cautious to leave somebody as important as Flavius drifting in the wind. He'll make a move when an opportunity presents itself." At first I thought it would be a simple matter of baiting Sinstre into the open but that didn't fit with the need for cover identities. Secondly, Sinstre wouldn't be dumb enough to come out into the open. There was no way we'd be that lucky either. "Our friends in the Adeptus Arbites have arranged for Flavius to be transported with minimum security as to avoid drawing attention."

"I'm guessing that our Arbite friends have made sure only the right people were informed," Cain remarked with a subtle smirk. Those 'right people' would be members of the local law enforcement that were suspected of being in Mr. Sinstre's pocket. Again, being the cautious type meant that even with half of the world in ruins, Sinstre would make sure he still had ears on the inside to protect what assets he had remaining. Since the only other people who knew Flavius was in our custody were either dead or xeno, it was easy to falsify the necessary documents to make it appear the accountant had been brought in by the locals. Vail made it sound a bit more complex than it actually was but the basic plan was for Sinstre to ambush the prison transport while on route but instead of Flavius they would find me.

"And how exactly does finding me help?" I asked with understandable concern. Without Flavius, whoever ambushes the transport might not be too pleased with the outcome.

"Because you're Lady Abigail Winchester. You're young, pretty, rich, and most importantly, very gracious to whoever springs you loose from the horrible fate that awaited you at the hands of the Adeptus Arbites," Vail explained as though the answer should have been obvious. At least the name was decent enough. "With any luck, you'll be taken back to his fortress or at least to a secondary hide-out."

"And where is my darling husband during all of this?" I asked, playing with the words in order to get used to my new relationship.

"Lord Horatio Winchester the Third will be launching his own ambush on a prison transport in hopes of rescuing you but will instead find Flavius," Vail answered. "With both sides in possession of something the other wants, we have our way bringing Cain and Sinstre together. From there you might have to improvise a bit but basically Lord Winchester is noble merchant from a nearby sector also looking to capitalize on the recent turmoil. Unlike Sinstre, who has to keep a low profile, Winchester is free to use his merchant fleet to move goods in and out of the system. No doubt the presence of more Imperial Guard is stressing Sinstre's supply lines and will thus make Winchester a desirable asset." The key obstacle with Sinstre had always been making first contact. He would be too paranoid to just waltz up to him so the guise of a chance opportunity that makes it seem like Sinstre is in complete control will make it easier for us to get close.

"As you both know," Hakim began, "time is not on our side. Until we know for certain, we have to assume that Sinstre is closing in on his main objective." An objective that we also had no clue as to what it was. Again, the Eldar made it sound like it had something to do with Erebus' Titan legion but an astropathic message with the words 'don't go to Erebus' would solve that problem. There was still a piece of the puzzle missing and it left an uneasy feeling in my gut. Despite not having a precise timeline, Hakim was adamant that we move forward with our plan as soon as possible in order to gather as much intelligence as possible. "Once inside, you are to earn his trust and gather as much information as to the exact nature of their plans. If possible, work yourself into a key position in his plan or disrupt their plans when the opportunity presents itself. Once sufficient information has been collected, Commissar Cain will send a signal using a transceiver in his belt. Upon receiving this signal, a combined force of Inquisitional stormtroopers and elements of the 597th will launch an assault on the compound to purge any heretics and apprehend Sinstre if possible."

"Might I inquire to N'hila's role in our mission? Her skills seem ideal for this sort of mission," I asked as the question had been lingering on my mind since I had been handed this assignment.

"N'hila is still being vetted," Vail explained bluntly. "I've expedited the process but it'll still be a few days before I trust her enough to let her loose again. If she's cleared, then she'll be sent in to run support. It might take her a few days but eventually she'll infiltrate the fortress on her own and rendezvous with you and Commissar Cain. We also can't rule out the possibility that Sinstre will be expecting a Callidus assassin thanks to the mole in Hakim's entourage." Vail's added emphasis at the end was not missed by her fellow Inquisitor and judging by his clenching fists there was nothing that Hakim could do in retaliation. I knew I had to stop taking pleasure in watching Hakim's reactions but it was difficult not to.

Thankfully, Hakim managed to maintain his composure enough to continue the briefing without letting his annoyance reflect in his voice. "Now I don't need to remind you of the dangers you may encounter. We have no intel on what's inside the compound and you could encounter any number of heretical depravities or rituals. You will have only your faith and willpower to defend yourself against whatever temptations they might throw against you. This planet and your very souls will depend upon the strength of your resolve." Normally I'd say that Inquisitors had a tendency to be over-dramatic about their missions and the potential consequences but in this case he was dead accurate. And I came within a hair's breadth of losing both.

The rest of the briefing was going over basic logistics and ensuring that Cain and I had our cover stories memorized. Cain must have been given a copy already since he had all the details squared away already. At least reading over the profiles gave me something to do while Cain discussed some of the details of his role with the Inquisitors. The profile described Abigail as absent-minded and docile, an admirer of fine antiquities and luxury, weak-willed, and timid. In short, you're average, run-of-the-mill rich girl with more substance within her bosom than her skull. It wasn't quite the role I was born to play but I figured it couldn't be that hard to play an airhead. After all, all I had to do was act and not think about what I was doing. It was like being a spoiled child, which might have been an easier prospect if my childhood had anything resembling that. It's hard to be spoiled when living in the schola on Krieg where essentially nothing belonged to you, not even the clothes on your back.

I was still engrossed in the profile of the vapid airhead I had to become when Vail dismissed us with instructions for me to report to the motor pool. With regards to the plan, I still had my apprehensions but I said nothing on my way out. I had convinced myself that my worries were stemming from the selfish viewpoint that for the next couple of days it was my arse that was hanging in the wind with no support of any kind if things went awry (no Imperial support that is). Besides, as a loyal servant of the Emperor it was my duty to heed the call of the Inquisition, even if that call was just to bait the hook. Vail could have chosen anybody to serve as a snotty-nosed noble brat but she felt that it was best to call upon me for the task. That was something to be proud of, wasn't it?

The correct and short response to that question should have been 'no.'

To say that I was nervous was a gross understatement. My stomach felt like it had just been squeezed and twisted by a dreadnought. I was about to embark on a huge undertaking and I could not feel more unprepared if they had sent me in armed with only a dinner fork. Before my worrisome thoughts could consume me further, Cain tapped my shoulder. "Commissar Abel, are you even listening to me?" he said as he spun me about-face.

In all my worrying, I had failed to notice that Cain had been trying to get my attention since we had stepped out of the briefing room. "What? Oh...uh, m-my apologies Commissar Cain," I quickly replied once I had realized my folly. He must have already knew what had my thoughts so distracted since he didn't take offence to my inattentiveness. "Is something wrong sir?"

"I just wanted to make sure that you were comfortable with everything," Cain said with a hint of concern. "If you don't feel you can handle this mission, I can probably convince Inquisitor Vail to stay the mission until N'hila has been vetted."

"No!" I blurted unexpectedly, surprising even myself. "Er, what I mean to say is that I can handle this. I won't let you down." I might not have been comfortable with being used as bait and having to play buddy to heretical scum but I wasn't about to openly admit to anyone, least all the Inquisition, that I had self doubts. I still didn't like the plan but by Holy Terra I wasn't about to let N'hila and Cain take all the glory. If anything, I felt a renewed sense of determination and I was going to prove myself if I had to straggle the answers out of Sinstre myself. In hindsight, I suspect Cain said those words to me with the intention of provoking those feelings from me. He knew me all too well it seemed, even that early on in our career.

"Good to hear," Cain said, satisfied with my rejuvenated confidence. "Now there is one other little thing we need to address."

"Oh? And what is that?" I asked with a strange sense of foreboding brewing inside.

"Well, we're going to be handing you over the local arbites and they don't exactly have a reputation for being...gentle. In an undercover operation, every little detail to aid a cover identity is important so we need you to look like you have been...mishandled. Authentically.

I was beginning to like the plan less and less but I couldn't go back on my words now. Besides, it wasn't like I hadn't had to endure a little pain in the name of the Emperor before. At the very least I knew that there was no malice behind his actions. "I understand," I said after a small sigh and a curt nod. He nodded in response and silently slipped on some leather gloves so my face didn't commit the audacity of scuffing his knuckles. "Just in case I forget to say this afterwards - ouch."

* * *

In my many years of being flung across the galaxy in service to the Emperor I have been involved in a number of unsavoury schemes and plans. And to be perfectly honest, the plan that started with me getting punched in the face by Commissar Cain was hardly the worst plan I've ever been involved with. Once Cain concocted a plan against a pack of Orks that involved me putting on a red floral dress and dancing the Macarian two-step through a minefield. I might not of agreed to his plan so readily had I not been doped up on a cocktail of stims, painkillers, and hallucinogenic plant nectar.

After Cain had finished making me look presentable, I was put in chains and ushered off to be handed over the local authorities for transport. I suspect that few people within the local force knew of my true identity or the real purpose of my transport, otherwise they probably would have been a bit gentler with me. Cain did not exaggerate when he said they had a reputation as I was constantly shoved, prodded, talked down to during the brief fifteen minutes it took from my hand-off to being loaded into the transport. They were also thoughtful enough to shove my head into an old bag that smelled like sweat and vomit so I was stumbling blindly through their facility halls, directed only by the occasional jab by a rifle butt or baton. Before my arrival I had some pangs of guilt that these men were being used as pawns in our grand schemes. My escorts were completely unaware that we were setting them up for an ambush and will in all likelihood be killed in the process. It was a necessary sacrifice, I told myself, to ensure that my rescue was believable. However, that feeling changed by the time I was loaded into the transport truck where I was fully prepared to castrate the next person to poke my arse with a baton. Rarely in my life have I been so relieved to be shoved into a tiny metal box and left in isolation.

Alas, I was soon wishing they had taken the bag off of my head and not just because it smelled like the backside of an ogryn. When you suffer from mild claustrophobia, all it takes is the illusion of being in a tight space for your nerves to start eating away at you. When I was up and walking (and not getting knocked about) it was easy to keep in mind that I was in an open space. The holding cell of a transport truck, however, was a little bit more cramped as the interior was divided into six separate holding cells, each of which was just barely large enough to seat an adult male. Even with my head in a sack, I could feel the dimensions of my new cell with my shoulders and legs. The cell couldn't have been more than three feet in either dimension and about six feet in height. All in all, it was enough to get my heart pacing a little bit but I knew if I remained seated and kept envisioning big, open fields then I would be okay.

"The least they could've done is wash this bag once in a while," I muttered to myself as the truck started on its way. The ride comfort was to be expected from a metal box driving across a half-ruined forgeworld. Thankfully I was able to push against the walls with my legs to keep steady as potholes and debris jostled the truck from side to side. As the minutes dragged by, I pondered how Sinstre's people would launch their assault on the transport. We hadn't given them a great deal of time to prepare so whatever their plan, it would be in haste and quite messy. Their easiest option would be to make an impromptu roadblock and the hijack the drivers or they could disable the vehicle with a few high-powered rounds into the tires. I could have thought of about a dozen other possible scenarios but the next thing I knew the entire truck was upside down, there was a loud ringing in my ears and smoke was coming into the holding cell. Honestly, I was a little disappointed that they went with the crude 'mine on the road' option but that could have been a side-effect of the ear-splitting headache I now had. Being thrown about by explosions tends to be me a tad cranky. Still, I thought it was rather odd they went with such a reckless tactic. I could have easily been killed!

Thankfully, I still had a simple rebreather mask on so I didn't have to worry about choking on the smoke or the atmosphere once outside. I had just finished getting straightened out when I heard a a couple of gunshots from the other side of the cell door, blasting a hole through the lock. The last shot even punched through the door, striking the wall near my head. What kind of rescue operation was this? That was twice now that I had almost been killed by their recklessness. I wondered what insanity was running through their minds and I was considering all the possible reasons for their carelessness right up to the point when the door swung open and someone fired two shots into my chest.

And that's when it occurred to me; this was never intended to be a retrieval.


End file.
